Wonder Boys Page #7

28INT. HI-HAT CLUB

Hannah Green is dancing with a sweat-drenched Q as GRADY

enters this SMOKE-FILLED RHYTHM AND BLUES club. She beckons

with a finger, but Grady--Nervous at the sight of her

glistening Mormon skin--merely pantomimes an exaggerated

shrug and she points.

CRABTREE and James Leer sit at a dark corner table. James

slouches, eyes half-closed, while CRABTREE stares in the

general vicinity of the dancers, his hand extended beneath

the table, in the general vicinity of James' lap.

Grady, looking a little alarmed, grabs a passing

WAITRESS.

GRADY:

Double Dickel on the rocks.

29INT. BOOTH

As GRADY arrives, CRABTREE withdraws his hand delicately

and James' eyes flutter open .briefly, ..then close.

GRADY:

Is that just beer?

CRABTREE:

Primarily. Although I gather you two staged a

little raid on the CRABTREE pharmacopoeia. You

missed a few bottles, by the way.

GRADY:

I'm sure. Where is everyone?

CRABTREE:

Sara and Walter declined. Guess they wanted to

go home and curl up on the couch with the dog.

GRADY cuts James a glance, trying to determine if he's

copped on Poe, but James is winking out. His head drifts

back against the wail, settles with a gentle ...thunk.

GRADY:

Jesus. He's out.

CRABTREE glances over, nods.

CRABTREE:

He has a book.

GRADY:

I know. He started it Fall semester.

CRABTREE:

He finished it Winter Break.

GRADY looks up, unable to disguise his surprise. He

glances at James' slack face tilted against the wall.

CRABTREE:

So. Is he any good?

GRADY:

No. Not yet he isn't.

CRABTREE:

Well, I'm going to read it anyway.

GRADY:

Come on. Crabs. Don't do this. He's . one o£

my students, for Christ sake. I'm not even sure

if he's-

CRABTREE:

He is. Take my word for it.

GRADY:

I think it's more complicated than that.

Besides, he's a little...scattered. He almost

...did something stupid tonight. At least, I

think so. Anyway, he doesn't need sexual

confusion thrown into the stew right now.

CRABTREE:

On the contrary, it 'could be just the ticket.

WAITRESS:

(ducking in)

Double Dickel.

GRADY:

Thanks.

GRADY notices the waitress's nametag (OOLA) and realizes

she is conspicuously PREGNANT. He watches her disappear

beyond the blur of bodies on the dancefloor, where Hannah

Green's slinky form seizes his attention.

CRABTREE:

No sexual confusion there, eh, Professor?

GRADY:

Shut up and drink.

CRABTREE grins, brings his bottle up, then stops.

CRABTREE:

Oh my goodness. Do you see what I see?

GRADY follows Crabtree's glance and finds Oola again, but

it's not Oola CRABTREE

is eyeing, it's her CUSTOMER.

GRADY:

President of the James Brown Hair Club For

Men.

Sitting alone in the dark booth is a SMALL BLACK MAN with

big hands, a face peppered with scar tissue, and--most

noticeably--a tsunami of hair sprouting from his scalp.

GRADY:

(initiating an old game)

He's a boxer. A flyweight.

CRABTREE:

Huh uh. A jockey. His name's, um, Curtis..

.Curtis Hardapple.

GRADY:

Not Curtis.

CRABTREE:

Vernon, then. Vernon Hardapple. The scar's are

from a--from a horse. He fell during a race and

got trampled.

GRADY:

And now he's addicted to painkillers.

CRABTREE:

He can't piss standing up anymore.

GRADY:

He lives with his mother.

CRABTREE:

And he had a younger brother who . . .was . .

. a. . .

GRADY:

Groom. Named Claudell. And his mother blames

Vernon for his death.

CRABTREE:

(stumped)

Because. . .because. . .

JAMES LEER:

(sleepily)

.. .he was killed, when a gangster named

Freddie Nostrils tried to shoot his favorite

horse. He took the bullet himself.

GRADY and Crabtree turn to look at James Leer, who opens

one bloodshot eye to regard them.

JAMES LEER:

Vernon, over there, was in on the hit.

James' eye closes. CRABTREE looks over at Grady.

CRABTREE:

That was good.

GRADY:

He heard everything we were saying.

Just then, Hannah Green bounces up in her red boots.

HANNAH GREEN:

Come on. Teach. I want you to dance with me.

30INT. DANCEFLOOR - MOMENTS LATER 30

GRADY and Hannah, reflected in bits and pieces in the

jack 'o lantern wail of MIRRORED TILE, slow-dance to a

sexy, measured blues.

HANNAH GREEN:

I've been re-reading Arsonist's Daughter. It's

so beautiful, Grady. So natural. It's like ail

your sentences always existed, just waiting

around in Style Heaven, or wherever, for you to

fetch them down.

GRADY:

I thank you.

HANNAH GREEN:

And I love the inscription you wrote to me.

Only I'm not quite the downy innocent you think

I am.

GRADY:

I hope that isn't true. We need all the downy

innocents we can get.

GRADY spies the corner table, watches CRABTREE say

something to Q and then, casually, stroke a lock of hair

from James Leer's forehead.

HANNAH GREEN:

So what are you going to do?

GRADY:

Do?

HANNAH GREEN:

I just mean, I--I guess Emily isn't going to

be there when you get home.

GRADY looks down into Hannah's translucent face, then

catches a glimpse of himself in the fractured, wail. The

tile that would reflect his head is missing.

GRADY:

Are you holding me up or am I dragging you

down?

Hannah snuggles closer, lays her head on Grady's chest.

HANNAH GREEN:

Shush.

31EXT. PARKING LOT - HI-HAT CLUB (2 AM)

Grady, limping on his bad ankle, carries James to

Hannah's rumpled RENAULT, props him against the fender.

GRADY:

Look, Hannah. When you get him home ...make

sure he's ail right. Before you leave. Okay?

HANNAH GREEN:

I would if I knew where I was taking him.

GRADY:

Hannah, are you telling me you don't know

where James Leer lives?

HANNAH GREEN:

Some apartment somewhere. But I've never seen

it.

GRADY:

That strikes me as odd.

HANNAH GREEN:

James is odd. I know he has an aunt in

Sewickley Heights. I dropped him there once,

but...

(remembering)

Come to think of it, it-wasn't even his Aunt's

house. He said she worked there. Or something.

I don't remember.

James MUMBLES, starts to slide onto the hood of the car.

JAMES LEER:

Mmhmmm.. . . knap ...sap....

GRADY:

What's he saying?

HANNAH GREEN:

His bag. You know that ratty green thing he's

always carrying around. He must've left it

inside.

GRADY:

Hh-uh. Last time I saw it was...

GRADY glances at the idling Galaxie across the street.

CRABTREE:

and Q huddle inside.

GRADY:

Sh*t. He must've left it back at Thaw. In the

auditorium.

JAMES LEER:

(delirious, but insistent)

Mmrrmmm.. .KNAP SAP!

GRADY frowns in annoyance, opens the passenger door.

GRADY (cont'd)

All right. Take him to my place. He can crash

on the sofa.

HANNAH GREEN:

The one in your office? It's the best one .for

naps.

GRADY:

I don't think it really matters, Hannah. We

could probably stand him up in the garage with

the snow shovels at this point.

As GRADY lowers James into the seat, he WHIMPERS, curls

into a bail. Hannah turns her puppy dog eyes on Grady.

GRADY:

Ail right. In my office.

As GRADY starts to turn away, Hannah's fingers graze his

face.

HANNAH GREEN:

Hey. If you want to talk later...I'll be up.

GRADY watches her fold her lovely self into the car and

drive away. He sighs, crosses to the Galaxie, and just has

his hand on the doorhandle when a TINY FIGURE appears.

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