Wonder Boys Page #16

GRADY:

Nothing.

The door closes, the LATCH CLICKS, and GRADY is left

alone, the bossa nova floating softly in the air.

92INT. HANNAH'S ROOM

Hannah Green lies tangled in the sheets, surrounded by

little colonies of Grady's manuscript. GRADY studies her,

then detects something on the floor. The red boots.

Delicately, he lifts the sheet. Hannah Green's feet--

finally revealed in ail their naked glory--prove to be

thick, wide, and ordinary. GRADY

sighs.

93INT. GRADY'S OFFICE

The TV is on. GRADY steps to the doorway, pauses.

VOICE:

Hey.

A HEAD cranes over the sofa. It's the Goatee Kid from

Thaw Hail.

GRADY:

How are you--is it Joe?

GOATEE KID:

Jeff. Sorry. I didn't even know this was your

house until about an hour ago.

GRADY:

Don't sweat it. Well. 'Night, Jeff.

GOATEE KID:

Oh, Professor Tripp? You know, last semester,

what I said that time in office hours-I hope

there's no hard feelings.

GRADY:

No...

GOATEE KID:

I mean, I was breaking up with this girl at

the time and my car was ail f***ed up and--

well--I was pretty bent in general.

GRADY:

It's cool, Jeff. Really.

GOATEE KID:

I just want you to know that's why I dropped

your class and said all that sh*t about the

university stealing my money and you being a

pseudo-Faulknerian nobody.

94EXT. PORCH - GRADY'S HOUSE - NIGHT (A BIT LATER)

GRADY sits quietly on the porch steps, a joint burning in

his fingers. To his left, perched atop a Haagen-Dazs

container, is a TELEPHONE. As he pulls it into his lap, a

LAMP in the living room pirouettes clumsily, spins free of

the cord, and SHATTERS on the floor.

GRADY blinks, looks away, and DIALS, just as. ..the

CLATTERING COUGH of an ENGINE is HEARD and a VAN appears.

Stenciled on its side panel is:

Kravnik's Sporting Goods

The van slows, almost coasting, then abruptly bursts past

Grady's house and disappears around the corner. GRADY

frowns, then realizes a MAN'S VOICE is coming from the

RECEIVER in his lap.

MAN (O.S. )

Hello? Hello...?

The VOICE is groggy. It is Walter Gaskell's voice.

GRADY:

Walter?

WALTER'S VOICE

Yes?

GRADY says nothing, as if wondering what he's doing.

WALTER'S VOICE (cont'd)

Who's this ?

GRADY:

It's Grady, Walter.

WALTER'S VOICE

Grady?

GRADY:

GRADY Tripp. English Department.

WALTER'S VOICE

I know it's you, Grady, I just... Christ,

Grady, do you know what time it -is?

GRADY:

(looking at his watch)

I have ...eight-fifteen. That's not right, is

it?

WALTER'S VOICE

It's three-thirty, Grady.

GRADY:

This is important.

WALTER'S VOICE

Oh?

GRADY:

I... I...

WALTER'S VOICE

What is it, Grady?

GRADY:

I'm in love with your wife.

WALTER'S VOICE

Excuse me?

GRADY:

Sara. I'm in love with her.

Silence. Then Walter's VOICE returns: even,

administrative.

WALTER'S VOICE

Are you drinking. Professor Tripp? Right now.

GRADY sips on his roach, responds in a pinched voice.

GRADY:

No.

WALTER'S VOICE

Nevertheless, I'd like to see you in my office

Monday morning.

As the line goes dead, GRADY stares at the phone,

wondering if he has, in fact, just done what he thinks he's

just done.

95EXT. GRADY'S NEIGHBORHOOD - SUNDAY MORNING (NEXT DAY)

A CAR rattles down the street, NEWSPAPERS pinwheeling

from-the window.

96INT. GRADY'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

A heavy THHNK hits the driveway outside and GRADY blinks.

Sitting in his pink robe, bleary-eyed, he reconsiders the

piece of paper curling from his typewriter.

GRADY'S POV - of THE PAGE

It's obvious he's been sitting like this for some time.

Just then, the DISTINCTIVE PURR of an ENGINE is HEARD.

GRADY peers through the window, watches a CAB. glide to the

curb below. A Citroen DS23. Sara.

97EXT. FRONT PORCH - GRADY'S HOUSE

GRADY steps onto the porch, unintentionally punting a

BOTTLE of Iron City Beer onto the front lawn..

GRADY:

Sara.

SARA:

I tried to call, but apparently there's

something wrong...

Sara leans down, replaces the uncradled phone.

SARA (cont'd)

...with your phone. Unfortunately, mine was

ringing loud and clear this morning.

GRADY doesn't know what this means, but he's pretty sure

it's not good.

GRADY:

Oh?

SARA:

It seems one of our students is - missing and

his parents found a dead dog in his bed.

GRADY:

(slumping to the porch)

I'm sorry, Sara. I've been trying to tell you.

It's all my-

Sara raises her hand, silencing him.

SARA:

I'm not very happy with you right now, Grady.

But more importantly, Walter's not very happy

and he's gotten the police involved. They seem

to think James Leer is somehow responsible for

all of this. You wouldn't happen to know where

James is, would you, Grady?

GRADY:

Inside.

SARA:

And the jacket?

GRADY:

Over there. In the backseat of the...

Grady's hand hangs in mid-air, gesturing pointlessly to

the driveway, where the only thing that exists is an oil

stain roughly the shape of North Dakota.

GRADY (cont'd)

Someone stole my car.

SARA:

Grady.

GRADY:

Honestly. Someone stole my car. I parked it

right there last night.

SARA:

Are you sure you parked it there?

GRADY:

Of course, I'm sure. Ah, Christ, the puberty

police are back.

Sara turns, sees Officer Pupcik cruising to the curb.

SARA:

I'll deal with this. You dig up James.

98INT. CRABTREE'S ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

CRABTREE sits in bed, flipping through the pages of The

Love Parade while stroking a tiny TUFT of HAIR that is the

. sole visible part of .James Leer.

GRADY:

(swinging in)

Is he awake?

CRABTREE:

I'm afraid he's pretty worn out, poor kid.

GRADY:

Nevertheless. There's a police officer

standing on the porch and I don't think he's

going away.

JAMES LEER:

(from under the covers)

That same guy?

CRABTREE peels back the blankets and James Leer opens one

eye.

JAMES LEER:

You snore.

CRABTREE:

So I hear.

JAMES LEER:

(studying Grady)

No offense, Professor Tripp, but you look

sorta crappy.

CRABTREE:

He's right, you look horrible.

GRADY:

Thank you, Frankie and Annette.

James swings his pale little legs to the floor and walks

bare assed across the room to retrieve his BVDs.

JAMES LEER:

It's the Chancellor.

CRABTREE:

Ah, right. Well, I gave you my opinion.

GRADY:

And we both thank you for that, but we're...

we're... fine.

JAMES LEER:

I'm fine, right. Fit as a f***ing fiddle.

GRADY squints at James as he pulls on his pants.

GRADY:

Shut up, James.

CRABTREE:

So what's the problem?

GRADY:

(a tad tense)

There is no problem. Did I say there was a

problem?

As James' head pops through Grady's fully-buttoned

flannel, he and CRABTREE

exchange a knowing glance, at once referring to and

excluding Grady.

SARA (0. S.)

How's it coming back there, Professor Tripp?

CRABTREE:

Who's that?

GRADY:

Who do you think it is?

CRABTREE:

The Chancellor's here? Now?

GRADY:

Evidently.

(calling)

Coming!

JAMES LEER:

Does she mean--does she know about ...her dog?

GRADY:

It's Walter's dog and yes, she does. Know. But

let's spare her the details. Come on, your

shoes are in the hail.

CRABTREE:

James. This book of yours. It's not bad. Not

bad at all.

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