Wild At Heart Page #9

LULA:

I love it when your eyes get wild,

honey. They light up all blue almost

and little white parachutes pop out

of ’em. Oh, Sailor you’re so aware

of what goes on with me? I mean, you

pay attention. And I swear, you got

the sweetest cock. Sometimes it’s

like it’s talkin’ to me when you’re

inside? Like it’s got a voice all

it’s own. You get right on me.

SAILOR:

You really are dangerously cute,

honey. I gotta admit it.

Lula lights a cigarette.

SAILOR:

Let’s head out into the crazy world

of New Orleans... I gotta get

somethin’ to eat.

CUT TO:

80. INT. RONNIE’S NOTHIN’ FANCY CAFE - NEW ORLEANS - LATE EVENING

Sailor and Lula sit at the counter drinking double-sized cups of

community coffee. A MAN on the stool next to Sailor lights up a rum-

soaked crook.

GEORGE:

My name’s George Kovich. Bet you’ve

heard of me.

SAILOR:

Don’t know that I have... Should I

know about you for anythin’ in

particular?

GEORGE:

Was in all the papers three years ago.

I’m seventy-six, was only seventy-

three then. Had a business in

Buffalo, New York, called Rats With

Wings. Killed pigeons for anyone

who wanted ’em killed.

LULA:

Why were you killin’ pigeons, Mr.

Kovich? Were you in the extermination

business?

GEORGE:

No, ma’am. I was a housepainter,

in the union forty-one years. I’m

retired now, livin’ with my sister,

Ida. Ida moved down here twenty-five

years ago, married an oil man named

Smoltz, Ed Smoltz. He’s dead now,

so it’s just me and Ida. I sold my

house and moved down after the city

of Buffalo put me out of business.

Hell, RWW was doin’ them a service,

and they charged me with endangerin’

the public.

LULA:

What’s wrong with pigeons, Mr. Kovich?

GEORGE:

They’re useless pests. I’ve shot

hundreds of ’em...

CUT TO:

81. EXT. CITY STREET - ROOFTOP IN GEORGE KOVICH’S NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY

George is shooting pigeons as fast as he can.

GEORGE:

(voice-over)

...My neighbors hired me to get rid

of the pigeons that gathered on

their roofs and porches...

CUT TO:

82. INT. RONNIE’S NOTHIN’ FANCY CAFE - NEW ORLEANS - LATE EVENING

GEORGE:

...Neighbors asked me how come the

spotted bastards didn’t light on my

house or my brother Earl’s anymore,

and I told ’em the truth. I shot

’em... Earl’s gone now...

CUT TO:

83. INT. EARL KOVICH’S HOUSE - DAY

Earl pitches forward out of his easy chair and hits the carpet hard -

screaming in pain.

GEORGE:

(voice-over)

...Heart attack six months ago -

had that cholesterol thick as sh*t...

His widow, Mildred, she still lives

in the house next to mine.

CUT TO:

84. INT. RONNIE’S NOTHIN’ FANCY CAFE - NEW ORLEANS - LATE EVENING

GEORGE:

She’s stone deaf but the racket the

pigeons made drove Earl crazy. He

could hear ’em even with the TV on.

He owned a bar thirty years, The

Boilermaker, on Wyoming Street.

Earl’s roof was a favorite spot for

pigeons. They lit there day and night.

I wanted to toss a grenade up there.

SAILOR:

If your neighbors didn’t mind,

how’d you get put out of business?

GEORGE:

Woman drivin’ down the street spotted

me with on a roof with my rifle. She

called the police and they came over

and arrested me. Thought I was a

sniper! Boys at the VFW loved that

one. Cops didn’t understand about

the pigeons, the damage they do to

personal property. I used to complain

to the city but they never lifted

a finger. I was gonna put out poison,

but I was afraid somebody’s cat

would eat it. Hell, I had six cats

myself. So I used the .22 because

it didn’t make much noise and the

ammo was cheap.

SAILOR:

What happened on the charges?

GEORGE:

Guilty on a reduced charge. Hundred

dollar fine and ordered to desist.

Pigeons carry diseases and muss up

the place. You seen it. Plain filth.

Kovich stands up and puts some money on the counter.

GEORGE:

It’s a serious situation. Not like

the Turks and the Armenians, maybe,

or the Arabs and the Jews, but I

want people to remember me and what

I’ve done and pick up where I left

off. Somebody had to make a move.

It was nice meetin’ you folks.

George Kovich nods and leaves.

SAILOR:

What lesson do get outta that story,

Lula?

LULA:

It’s just another case, Sailor.

SAILOR:

What’s that, peanut?

LULA:

One person thinks he’s doin’ somethin’

good and ever’body else gets upset

about it.

Sailor looks up at Lula.

SAILOR:

Ain’t it the way...

CUT TO:

85. INT. HOTEL BRAZIL - NEW ORLEANS - NIGHT

It’s very quiet in the hotel room and the clock says four a.m. Lula and

Sailor are lying in bed arm in arm. Sailor is fast asleep - snoring.

Lula is wide awake.

LULA:

Sailor?... Sailor, honey?

Sailor snaps awake with a snort.

SAILOR:

Huh?

LULA:

Ever imagine what it’d be like to

get eaten alive by a wild beast?...

Sometimes I think it would be the

biggest thrill?

SAILOR:

My God,

(looks around)

it better be, darlin’, cause it’d be

the last... What time is it?

LULA:

Shhhhh... It’s four o’clock...

That woman’s laugh the other day had

somethin’ to do with this feelin’?

... Like bein’ ripped apart by a

gorilla, maybe... Grabbed sudden

and pulled apart real quick by a

real powerful one.

Lula’s left hand opens and spreads wide.

SAILOR:

Lula, sometimes I gotta admit, you

come up with some weird thoughts...

LULA:

Anythin’ interestin’ in the world

come out of somebody’s weird thoughts,

Sailor. You tell me Sailor, who

could come up with sh*t like we’re

seein’ these days?

SAILOR:

You got me, peanut.

LULA:

(smiles - turns to him)

You certain?

SAILOR:

I ain’t never met anyone come close

to you, sugar.

LULA:

Recall the time we was sittin’ one

night behind the Confederate soldier?

Leanin’ against it. And you took

your hand and put it on your heart

and you said, ‘You feel it beatin’

in there, Lula?... Get used to it,

cause it belongs to you now.’ D’you

recall that?

SAILOR:

I do.

LULA:

I was hopin’ you would. I know that

night by heart. Sometimes, honey?

I think it’s the best night of

my life.

CUT TO:

86. BEHIND THE CONFEDERATE SOLDIER

Tight Two-Shot Lula and Sailor with their arms around each other - cheek

to cheek - talking softly.

A strange presence begins to build and a piece of sad nostalgic music

plays.

CUT TO:

87. INT. HOTEL BRAZIL - NEW ORLEANS - NIGHT

LULA:

(lost in the memory)

I really do think it’s the best

night of my life.

SAILOR:

We didn’t do nothin’ special I can

remember. Just talked, is all.

LULA:

Talkin’s good. Long as you got the

other? I’m a big believer in talkin’,

case you ain’t noticed.

SAILOR:

Too bad they don’t give an award for

talkin’... You’d win first prize.

Especially with those tits.

LULA:

You think so, baby? Does my talkin’

bother you, honey?

SAILOR:

No, I like gettin’ up around four

a.m. and talkin’ bout wild animals

... Though you woke me up this time

in the middle of a dream. I kinda

wish I didn’t remember it. Up at

Pee Dee, I couldn’t remember any of

my dreams.

LULA:

What was this one?

SAILOR:

It wasn’t no fun, Lula. The wind

was blowin’ super-hard and I wasn’t

dressed warm. Only instead of

freezin’, I was sweatin’ strong.

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