Adventures in the Screen Trade (44 page)

EMMA

Ten nights in a row-what's so fascinating about scalp disease? How long can you talk about head shapes?

Now the sound of a mandolin and MORRIS'S voice raised in song. He is not Caruso. EMMA shakes her head.

Worse and worse.

WILLIE (making a double jump) He only sings when he feels good.

MORRIS is singing louder now.

EMMA (she sighs)

Better he should be a little sad- der. ...

As the singing goes on-

CUT TO

More music-equally lacking in calibre-WILLIE is in his room. practicing his harmonica. He lies on his bed. eyes closed, doing his best. The room ia small, dooinated by posters of sports heroes: Reggie Jackson, Bjorn Borg. Another week or so has gone by-WILLIE's hair is that much longer. It's late afternoon.

BIMBAUM (appearing in the open doorway, a towel in one hand) Why do you make that sound?

WILLIE (quickly stopping) I'm sorry-

BIMBAUM -answer.

WILLIE

I thought maybe I eight want to be a musician, so I askad could we have a piano? My father bought me this Instead-

{holds up harmonica) -he said if I got good on this then he'd get me a small guitar, and if I got good on that. then ho might get a piano. (dubiously looking at the instrument) I don't see a piano in my future.

BIMBAUM Play me your best tune.

CUT TO

WILLIE. He hesitates, then atarts ' 'Shenandoah' '-"Oh Sheoandoah, I long to see you, away, you rolling river . . . ' *

CUT TO MR. BIMBAUM. watching, listening.

WILLIE (breaks off) Not so good, huh?

BIMBAUM Not so good? Terrible.

WILLIE (stung) You said to do it. (ho puts the harnonica on the bed)

BIMBAUM

Don't be such a sensitive, Everyone was terrible once. At the start, we all stink.

he looks at Willie a moment) Even I wasn't always great. (he moves out of sight down the hall)

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WILLIE. He thinks a minute, shuts the door, tries "Shenandoah" again. Not ao hot. But he goes gamely on as we

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THE KITCHEN, a few nights later. Roast and dumplings simmering on the stove. WILLIE and his MOTHER stand guard. There is a sound behind them and as they turn-

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BIMBAUM. He hurries through the kitchen and disappears up the back stairs. Not so much as a nod.

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EMMA. She looks at WILLIE, is about to apeak, thinks better of it, turns her attention back to her cooking. Silence. Then the slamming of the front door. Hard. A pause. Then the heavy sound of trudging footsteps Coming closer and closer and

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MORRIS. He stands In the kitchen door with the look of a stricken samurai warrior on his face. After a moment he goes into the living room, sinks heavily onto a sofa.

CUT TO EMMA AND WILLIE in the kitchen.

EMMA (calling out) No songs.

No answer.

WILLIE What is it?

EMMA

Something bad. (and with that she leaves her post by the stove, hurries into the living room)

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WILLIE. He stands there alone a moment. He moves the dumplings around. Then he stops, walks to where he has a view of the living room.

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THE LIVING ROOM. EMMA is kneeling by MORRIS and they whisper to each other.

CUTTO

WILLIE, riveted. CUT TO

MORRIS AND EMMA. They whisper a moment more, then she rises, moves back toward the kitchen.

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WILLIE. Waiting.

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EMMA, pale, in the kitchen doorway. She shakes and shakes her head. Then-

EMMA That Porky McKee-

(a sigh)

-and I thought he was supposed to be your friend.

As she finishes, stands there, WILLIE turns, dashes out as we

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THE FRONT OF PORKY'S HOUSE, and WILLIE, jamming his fin- ger against the bell. As the door opens-

CUT TO PORKY, standing inside his house. A screen door separates the TWO of them, so we can't see PORKY clearly, but it looks like he's gnawing on a leg of fried chicken.

PORKY I Just knew it would be you.

WILLIE

What happened?-my father's groaning, my mother ' s turned pale, what did you do P

PORKY (pauses, then-)

I had Mr. Bimbaum give me a haircut.

WILLIE There ' s got to be more.

PORKY Well...

WILLIE What?

PORKY

Your father-his chair was empty. Bimbaum's was busy.

CUT TO WILLIE. Stunned.

WILLIE You didn't do it.

CUTTO PORKY, still behind the screen door.

PORKY

I did, I did. I waited for Bimbaum-

(in a rush now)

-I had to, Willie-the way you been looking I had to give it a try, and was it ever worth it-

(and now he opens the screen door, steps out) Some haircut, hub?

PORKY, need it be said, has improved vastly in appearance.

MILLIE (nods)

You never looked better. What kind of head shape you got?-

PORKY -semi-triangular.

He offers WILLIE a bite of the chicken leg; WILLIE shakos his head no.

I'm sorry, Willie-tell your father I didn't oeaa anything personal: explain that to him.

CUT TO

MILLIE, exploding. MILLIE

Explain it? The man's got feelings. Porky-you should see him- wreck-he may never get over it-for all I know he's just going to lay around like a lump for the rest of his life-'I mean, who knows-

PORKY (outting in)

-take it easy-it was just a one-time thing-'it ' II never happen again-

WILLIE

-it will, it will, you don't under- stand ...

(and now it bursts from him) -I wanna do the same thing !

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THE TWO OF THEM. standing in silence for a moment. Then-

PORKY (softly) Oh, Willie . . .

WILLIE (such guilt) I want that Bimbaum again.

PORKY (helpfully) Maybe your father will get sick- (as Millie gives him a sharp look-)

-not really sick, I don't mean serious, but ho could catch cold-

MILLIE -he's a horse-'

PORKY

-then maybe some cousin might get mar- ried and they'd have to go, or maybe-

MILLIE

-I only got one shott Mhen haircut time comes up I'll ask my mother to help me.

PORKY (nods) Great.

MILLIE You thinks

PORKY (gnawing on his chicken) Mothers always understand.

Now on the word mothers-

CUT TO

EMMA, grabbing a bar of soap from the kitchen sink. And she's not smiling.

EMMA Go wash your mouth.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

WILLIE, scruffy as when we first saw him, standing in the kitchen with her.

WILLIE But listen - EMMA

Stab your own father in the back? My own little Judas.

WILLIE Please-

EMMA

You need a haircut, your father will give you a haircut-now.

And as she takes him by the arm, marches him toward the kitchen door-

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THE MAIN STREET IN TOWN. It's cloudy. WILLIE trudges slowly along. A COUPLE OF PEOPLE nod hello. He kind of grunts back, continues on.

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THE BARBERSHOP as WILLIE slows, creeping now along the sidewalk. He slows, stops, looks toward the heavens.

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THE SKY. Darkening. CUT TO

WILLIE. He reaches the edge of the glass window in front of the shop, quickly peeks in---

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INSIDE THE SHOP. MORRIS and BIMBAUM sit on benches, looking off in different directions. No customers. The shop is empty.

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WILLIE, pulling his head back out of sight. He begins to knead his stomach. From the distance now: thunder.

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WILLIE. He looks up as another crash of thunder is heard. His face is as gloomy as the bleak sky. Now he turns quickly as we

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AN OLD GUY who obviously needs a haircut. THE OLD GUY walks slowly toward the shop.

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WILLIE, watching him, and now there is a flicker of hope showing.

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THE OLD GUY. He stops in front of the shop, as if making up his mind.

CUT TO MILLIE, praying almost for the GUY to go in and- CUT TO

THE GUY. He takes a step away, changes his mind, enters the shop.

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WILLIE. He waits a moment. Another. Finally, when he can't take any more, he quick grabs another peek inside the shop.

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INSIDE. THE OLD GUY has gone into BIMBAUM's chair. MORRIS is still sitting idly on the bench, staring off.

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WILLIE, out of sight again, shaking his head. Whatever torment he is going through. It's not lessening as time goes on.

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THE SIDEWALK. The first dainty drop of rain splashes lightly down.

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WILLIE, standing huddled on the sidewalk. He wears just a T-shirt and j cans and already his shoulders art a littie wet.

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THE SKY. EXPLODING. It's like someone has switched on a spigot and a torrential spring rain unloads,

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WILLIE, alone, rooking back and forth. He's soaked but he Just keeps on rocking. He glances inside the shop.

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INSIDE. BIMBAUM is determining his CUSTOMER'S head shape.

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WILLIE, walking around in a kind of mystic circle.

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THE HEAVENS. You never saw such rain.

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WILLIE, drenched; he grabs another look inside.

CUT TO INSIDE. BIMBAUM is just reaching for some shampoo.

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WILLIE. Whipped but still standing there. He looks like he just stepped from a bathtub. CUT TO

THE SKIES AND MURDEROUS THUNDER. It rumbles on and on and the rain, hard as it was before, only increases in tempo.

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WILLIE, He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then goes to the door, walks into the barbershop.

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INSIDE. MORRIS rises, goes to his empty chair.

MORRIS Perfect timing.

WILLIE doesn't move. MORRIS pats the back of his chair.

Hop up.

CUT TO WILLIE. CLOSE UP.

WILLIE (finally mumbling it out) I think I'll wait for Mr. Bimbaum.

And the instant he's said it-

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MORRIS. Erupting-

MORRIS (huge)

Not in this shop-not in my shop- out Out !-OUT!

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WILLIE, fleeing out the door. into the storm. . . . HOLD ON WILLIE. Then -

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EMMA IN THE KITCHEN, working her oagio at the stove. WILLIE silently enters. Outside, the rain still rages.

EMMA (glancing at him} You didn't take a cut.

WILLIE

They were jammed--I'll come back tomorrow.

EMMA Good, good.

She smiles, returns to her labors. WILLIE slinks up- stairs as we

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WILLIE IN HIS ROOM. He lies on his bed, dry now: differ- ent Jeans, a clean T-shirt. He stares at the unrelenting rain. It's early evening.

Now he hears footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Ho goes to his door, looks out, catches a glimpse of BIMBAUM go- ing to his room down the hall.

WILLIE returns to his bed, picks up his harmonica, toss- es it back down.

Now he hears the raging voice of his FATHER. Again he heads for the door as we

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THE LIVING ROOM, MORRIS storming around, EMMA in pursuit , doing her best to pacify him.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

WILLIE, crouched on the screen porch, listening.

EMMA

Morris--my God, remember, he's only a boy.

MORRIS Some boy.

( clutching his heart ) Here's where the knife went in - feel - the blood is still dripping--

EMMA -let me get you something nice to eat-

CUTTO

MORRIS. Louder now.

MORRIS

I don't want food, I want revenge. That goddam Bimbaum anyway-him and his head shapes - who does he think he is, Leonardo da Vinci?

(and now he stares up at the ceiling, shakes a fist toward it-) In this town, Bimbaum, you're a dead man.

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WILLIE, watching his PARENTS. If ho seemed miserable waiting out in the rain, he looks worse now...

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THE FOUR OF THEM AT DINNER THAT NIGHT. Dead silence, ex- cept for the clink of utensils scraping plates. They ALL eat quickly, no one looking at anybody else. MORRIS finally puts his fork down, glances at EMMA quickly, then sighs audibly.

EMMA (right on cue) Whatever is the matter, Morris?

MORRIS Business. Business is bad.

EMMA Truly?

MORRIS

Yes, business is terrible-but not in the way that you might think. EMMA I wish you'd explain that to me, Morris.

MORRIS

Well, it ain't so much that the shop doesn't have customers, it's that the customers ain't getting servioe.

EMMA What do you mean?

MORRIS

I mean that Bimbaum here takes too goddam long cutting hair.

EMMA Oh, surely that is not so.

MORRIS

Oh, but it is so--just today he took one hundred and six minutes to do old Mr. Denzei, who is practically bald to begin with. Who can make money that way? Answer: Not me. I oan cut three heads in a hundred and six minutes.

CUT TO MR. BIMBAUM. eating steadily away.

BIMBAUM

That's because you're a butcher-"what does a butcher need with time?

CUT TO WILLIE, watching the TWO MEN.

MORRIS This particular butcher happens to own the shop in which you are employed. Or should I say, were employed.

BIMBAUM (puts his fork down now) Meaning?

MORRIS

Meaning that unless you get speedier, you get out and I hire some one who ain't such a slowpoke. Not that many Jobs around, Bimbaum.

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BIMBAUM. He nods. CUT TO MORRIS, staring at him.

MORRIS

You work for me, you work my way. Tomorrow you get timed: If you can out a head in, say, forty-five minutes, you stay; if you can't, good-bye.

BIMBAUM

What' head? You'll probably pick Mr. Die- trich-he's got ahead like anose.

MORRIS

I may be a butcher, but at least I am fair-you need a guinea pig, I got a guinea pig-I happen to be its father.

CUT TO WILLIE, glancing quickly at his father. WILLIE Me?

MORRIS Oh yes, you.

WILLIE I don't think I want to be there.