Wonder Boys Page #13

GRADY:

That's why they all give you such a hard time

in workshop.

JAMES LEER:

Because of my coat?

GRADY:

Because you act like a goddamn spook all the

time. Not to mention the fact that every last

one of them is jealous of you.

JAMES LEER:

(smirking)

Jealous? Of me?

GRADY:

Not you. Your talent.

James' face hardens. He looks away.

JAMES LEER:

You're lying.

GRADY:

The hell I am.

JAMES LEER:

Yes you are. My stuff stinks. I know it. You

said so yourself.

GRADY:

I never said that.

JAMES LEER:

Yes you did. Last night. To your friend

Crabtree. "Is he any good?" he said. And you

said:
"Not yet he isn't." I heard you myself.

GRADY:

I didn't mean it that way.

JAMES LEER:

It's okay, Professor Tripp. Carrie, Howard,

the others--they 're right. My stories are

annoying. They go on and on and on, and the

longer they go on the more annoying they

become, until finally you just want to grab

something heavy and--

GRADY:

Shut up, James. You're annoying. Carrie and

Howard don't know what the f*** they're talking

about, okay? The entire class combined-

including the lovely Hannah Green-has about one

tenth of one percent the talent you have, okay?

James stares blankly at Grady, then turns his face to the

window. He ponders Grady's words, the praise inherent in

them. A hint of pleasure glints in his eyes.

JAMES LEER:

But, last night...

GRADY:

Who cares what-. I said last night, James I I

was drunk, I was stoned. I'd been bitten by a

dog. My wife had left me. How 'bout cutting me

some slack?

JAMES LEER:

(quietly)

I'm sorry.

GRADY:

And don't be so goddamn sensitive. Who cares

what anybody thinks anyway? You want to .be a

good writer? You want to be-a great writer?

Then stop giving a damn what other people

think. Most of them haven't thought in .years.

James turns, studies Grady's face as it flickers in the

first headlights of the evening.

GRADY:

Let me spell it .out for you, James. Books

don't mean anything. Not to anybody. Not

anymore.

JAMES LEER:

Arsonist's Daughter meant something.

GRADY smiles contemptuously.

JAMES LEER:

I mean it. It means something to me. It's one

of the reasons I came to school here. To be in

your class. To be taught by you.

(quietly)

It's one of the reasons I wanted to become a

writer.

GRADY stares ahead, watching the darkness tumble away

before the wide sweep of the Galaxie's headlights.

GRADY:

Well, for that, if nothing else, James, I'm

sorry.

72EXT. COFFEE SHOP/MOTEL - OFF THE HIGHWAY - EVENING

GRADY rolls into a space near the coffee shop and James

slides out. GRADY

stays put, hands still on the wheel.

JAMES LEER:

You coming?

GRADY:

In a minute. Get us a table.

James nods, pushes past the glass doors into the coffee

shop, and a big REDHEAD in a waitress cap leads him to a

table with a view of the highway. GRADY

watches James-- stick figure in black brogues--slide into

the booth and open his big, laminated menu.

Finally, as if concluding some internal debate, GRADY

kicks open his door, steps out.

73INT/EXT. PHONE BOOTH - PARKING LOT - MOMENTS LATER

GRADY rests his forehead against the PAYPHONE as he

speaks.

GRADY:

C-a-r-v-e-I. That's right, Carvel. Yes, I'm

sure. It's outside Scranton.

GRADY straightens up, takes a peek at James, sitting by

himself on the far side of the coffee shop.

GRADY:

You have no listing. Okay, well, lady-- at

this very moment, as we speak, I'm looking of a

resident of Carvel, Pennsylvania. I think he'd

be pretty interested to learn that the good

people of Bell Atlantic have misplaced his

entire hometown. It's not like I'm making this

up as I go along--

GRADY stops, his own words ringing in his head.

GRADY (cont'd)

Never mind. My mistake.

74EXT. GALAXIE - PARKING LOT 74

GRADY upends James' knapsack, sifts through: An

AUTOGRAPHED POSTCARD of FRANCES FARMER. A wrinkled box of

CHICLETS. Nothing. Then he notices ERROL FLYNN'S eyebrows

peeking at him from the knapsack's side pouch.

He takes the book, opens it. Bingo. A library notice:

James Seiwyn Leer is three weeks overdue. Under ADDRESS it

says only:
"On File." But if one was to dial the PHONE

NUMBER, odds are it won't be the night janitor at the

Greyhound depot who picks up.

75INT. BOOTH - COFFEE SHOP - NIGHT (LATER)

The remains of a FRIED CLAM SANDWICH sit before James as

he turns his attention to a GIANT PIECE OF LEMON MERINGUE

PIE. GRADY sips only coffee, stealing glances at the cars

that whip by on the highway beyond the window.

JAMES LEER:

Want a bite?

GRADY:

No thanks.

JAMES LEER:

That's why you're having them. Your spells.

GRADY:

Spells? Jesus, James, you make it sound like

we're in a Tennessee Williams play. I don't

have spells.

JAMES LEER:

What would you call them then?

GRADY:

I don't know. ...'Episodes.'

James shrugs, spears a fluffy chunk of pie.

JAMES LEER:

It's because you don't eat.

GRADY:

I eat.

JAMES LEER:

When?

GRADY:

When nobody's looking.

GRADY watches a pair of headlights approach...

JAMES LEER:

(mouth full, garbled)

I just worry about you, that's all.

...then pass. James' words finally register. GRADY looks

at him.

GRADY:

You just worry about yourself, James. Okay?

JAMES LEER:

Okay.

Just then, a long, pale WAND of LIGHT splinters against

the coffee shop windows and a CAR sweeps into the parking

lot. GRADY follows it with his eyes, rises.

JAMES LEER (cont'd)

Where you going?

GRADY:

Nowhere. You just sit here and... eat.

GRADY moves off, then stops, looking back at James and

his giant piece of pie, still troubled by his words.

76EXT. COFFEE SHOP/MOTEL

As GRADY limps out of the coffee shop, he finds an OLDER

MAN in a TUXEDO standing in the open door of a gleaming

BLACK MERCEDES. Beyond him, in the front passenger seat, a

WOMAN in MINK examines her eye shadow in the tiny mirror of

the sun visor.

MAN:

(eyeing GRADY dubiously)

Professor Tripp?

GRADY:

Grady.

MAN:

Fred Leer. This is my wife Amanda.

GRADY:

(re:
their clothes)

Looks like I've dashed a-wonderful evening.

FRED LEER:

Hardly.

AMANDA LEER:

We were on our way to a benefit. But, as luck

would have it, the club was on the way, so...

(snapping shut the visor)

We were able to put in an appearance.

FRED LEER:

Otherwise we would've been here earlier.

GRADY:

Ah. Well, that's ail right. James and I 'had a

little dinner.

FRED LEER:

Well, certainly we'll reimburse you.

GRADY:

That's not necessary. I just felt. ..it might

be good for James to be with his family this

weekend.

FRED LEER:

Well, of course, we can understand that.

GRADY considers the two glittering ghosts before him.

They seem to be waiting. Just waiting.

GRADY:

Well. Let me go get him.

GRADY turns for the coffee shop, then stops, looks back.

GRADY (cont'd)

I "hope you won't consider this forward of me,

Amanda, but I wonder if I might ask. ..did you

ever attend Catholic school?

Amanda Leer's eyes narrow ever-so-slightly.

AMANDA LEER:

Excuse me?

77INT. BOOTH - COFFEE SHOP77

James is glowering at the parking lot as GRADY returns.

Rate this script:3.0 / 4 votes