Youth Page #7

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Fred listens for a while, then interrupts him.

FRED BALLINGER (CONT’D)

May I do something while you play?

The boy nods uncertainly.

BOY:

(doubtful) Okay.

29.

He starts playing again.

Fred steps timidly into the room and shuffles over to the

boy, who keeps on playing. Fred stretches out his hand and

touches the boy’s arm, the one holding the bow. He raises the

boy’s elbow an inch, correcting his position.

That’s all. Fred is relieved.

FRED BALLINGER:

There.

15. INT. HOTEL RESTAURANT. EVENING

The lugubrious silence of the rich as they dine. The only

sound is the tinkling of silverware.

The Russians are there, the black family, and droves of

elderly guests.

Many eyes are irresistibly drawn to the table where the

famous, obese South American dines in silence with his wife.

At another table, a twenty-year-old kid can’t resist the

temptation to take a picture. He discreetly positions his

iPhone. The obese South American, who realizes what the kid

is doing, merely nods wearily to his wife. She understands

immediately, gets up, and goes to get a screen from behind a

column. She places the screen between her husband and the

rest of the room, angling it so as to block the young man’s

view. Then she disappears behind it.

Jimmy Tree is eating alone and has followed the scene that

has just unfolded with utmost concentration.

Another guest is observing the scene too, a giant of a man,

about fifty, with a thick beard, disheveled hair, and dressed

in trekking gear. He looks like a belated hippy. Tucking his

cloth napkin into his shirt, he tackles a bowl of broth.

The obese South American has finished eating, and now crosses

the dining room. He moves with considerable effort, leaning

on his cane and his companion. As he goes by, all the guests

look at him again out the corners of their eyes.

But Jimmy’s attention is still focused on his briarwood cane.

At another table, Fred and Mick.

They obsessively observe a very distinguished, German-looking

couple, around sixty years old: husband and wife are dressed

alike, in brown and beige, clearly not by chance. They both

look incredibly bored and stare into space, not exchanging a

single word.

Fred and Mick chat, but never take their eyes off the silent

couple.

30.

MICK BOYLE:

So where did you disappear to

today?

FRED BALLINGER:

I got lost following the sounds in

the countryside.

MICK BOYLE:

Didn’t you used to get lost in your

music too?

FRED BALLINGER:

Everything one hears is music.

Stockhausen. What did you get up

to?

MICK BOYLE:

I couldn't find you, so I went to

see my doctor friend. They’re going

to talk tonight, you’ll see.

The married couple still hasn’t said a word.

FRED BALLINGER:

Thirty Swiss francs says they won’t

say a word the entire dinner.

MICK BOYLE:

I’m so sure they’re going to talk,

I’ll raise you to fifty.

FRED BALLINGER:

Done.

The couple is about to leave. He graciously pulls her chair

out for her. She takes his arm. They leave the dining room,

and Fred and Mick follow them with their gaze all the way to

the door. The couple still doesn’t speak.

FRED BALLINGER (CONT’D)

Including your losses these past

few days, we’re up to 250 Swiss

francs that you owe me.

Fred blows his nose, then rubs the tip four times with his

handkerchief, folds it, and puts it back in his pocket.

Mick Boyle runs his hand over his hair.

Jimmy Tree has been studying their every move from his

solitary table.

16. EXT. HOTEL GARDEN. NIGHT

A swing band is trying to liven up the evening with an upbeat

number that only ends up making people feel sentimental.

31.

Four old men in electric wheelchairs are gathered around a

small table, absorbed in a card game.

A handful of energetic types sway awkwardly on the dance

floor.

A Russian and his wife twirl around in a sweat, as if they

were in a dance competition. He dips her and she laughs.

Jimmy Tree, incongruous in his sunglasses, is in a corner,

chatting with a small group of people, including Mark

Kozelek.

MARK KOZELEK:

When did you go to dinner?

JIMMY TREE:

Pretty early.

MARK KOZELEK:

I would have joined you if you’d

called me.

JIMMY TREE:

Just as well. I didn’t just eat at

dinner.

MARK KOZELEK:

What else did you do?

JIMMY TREE:

I worked.

Mick and Fred, at another table, gaze distractedly at the

gloomy evening.

The upbeat song ends and the band starts in on a slow number.

Couples form.

The eternally mute couple makes its way to the dance floor.

They dance with conviction, but still don’t say a word, don’t

even look at each other. She keeps her inexpressive eyes on

Jimmy Tree. He realizes it, lowers his sunglasses and smiles

courteously at her. She doesn’t return the smile. She doesn’t

react at all. Her husband has followed the whole thing, a

severe, jealous expression on his face.

The hippy mountaineer, sad and solitary, watches the swing

band and sips his herbal tea. It’s so hot it burns his lips.

He lets out a quick but intense groan, which no one hears.

Mick and Fred give in to a brief, tragic exchange.

MICK BOYLE:

Today?

32.

FRED BALLINGER:

Nothing today. You?

MICK BOYLE:

Nothing.

FRED BALLINGER:

Let’s hope we can piss tomorrow.

With enormous effort, the obese South American makes his way

to the center of the dance floor, leaning on his cane. He

smiles and holds out his hand, inviting his wife to dance.

She beams and runs to join him. They dance for all of ten

seconds, during which he struggles against his own body, his

legs ruined by his weight. Then he stops, completely

exhausted. His companion grows anxious and gestures for

assistance. Two dutiful waiters carry a chair onto the dance

floor, and the South American collapses in it, as if finally

able to breathe again.

Everyone observes the happenings with a grave air.

Fred and Mick watch as well. Fred blows his nose in his

ritual fashion. Mick, referring to the South American, says:

MICK BOYLE:

That man is the last true authentic

myth on the face of the planet.

Like in ancient Greece. If it were

anybody else, we would have laughed

at this little scene. But not him.

No one is laughing. And do you know

why?

FRED BALLINGER:

No, why?

MICK BOYLE:

Because a myth leaves no room for

the ridiculous.

17. INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR. NIGHT

Fred walks down the hallway, away from us. He is overtaken by

an old man in an electric wheelchair. When the man gets to

the far end of the hallway, he crashes into another

wheelchair, which emerges from the hallway to the right. A

minor wheelchair accident. An altercation ensues over matters

of priority, who has the right of way, and what determines

careless driving.

Fred watches the whole thing without batting an eye. He puts

his key in the door and disappears into his room.

33.

18. INT. FRED BALLINGER’S SUITE. NIGHT

Fred is in his room, getting undressed. He’s taking off his

shirt when he hears an inexplicable, muffled lament coming

from the bathroom. He shuffles over to the bathroom door and

opens it. His daughter Lena is sitting on the edge of the

tub, drowning in tears.

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