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Wonder Boys (2000)

by Steven Kloves.
Based on the novel by Michael Chabon.
Revises draft, January 21, 1999.

More info about this movie on IMDb.com


FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY


All IS A BLUR. . .

...then WORDS appear, twisting and vaguely transparent, 
reflected on the window GRADY TRIPP stands before as he 
reads from a sheaf of NEATLY-TYPED PAGES.

				GRADY
	'The young girl sat perfectly still in the 
	confessional...

1	INT. CLASSROOM - UNIVERSITY - AFTERNOON

Grady--45-year-old novelist, professor, and insomniac--is 
in the midst of reading a story to the dozen college 
STUDENTS who make up his Advanced Writing Workshop.

				GRADY
	...listening to her father's boots scrape like 
	chalk on the ancient steps of the church, then 
	grow faint, then disappear altogether.'

As he finishes, GRADY ponders a PAIR of MAINTENANCE MEN, 
perched on ladders in the quad below, stringing a LARGE 
BANNER between two bare trees. The BANNER reads:

WELCOME TO WORDFEST

GRADY turns, peers at his students. They look as if 
they've been on a field trip to the DMV.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
		(a wave of the pages) 
	So. .Anyone?

A GIRL with jet-black hair turns to a PALE YOUNG MAN 
sitting at a desk in the back of the classroom. He is JAMES 
LEER, 19. Like GRADY a moment before, he is staring out the 
window.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY 
	Let me get this straight. The girl with the 
	big lips is depressed because, each night, when 
	her father goes off to work at the bakery, her 
	mother sneaks some mysterious lover into the 
	house. Not only does this girl have to listen 
	to her mother working this guy in the next 
	room, she has to wash the sheets each morning 
	before Daddy gets home. After a few weeks of 
	this, she starts to go a little nutty/ so Daddy 
	takes her to confession--only, once she gets in 
	the box, she gets a whiff of the priest and 
	realizes he's the mother's secret lover. Is 
	that it?

James Leer says nothing, huddling lower in the PATTY 
OVERCOAT he wears.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY
	I mean, Jesus. What is it with you Catholics?

				GRADY
	All right. Let's try to keep it constructive, 
	shall we? Howard, what about you?

				HOWARD 
	I hated it.

				GRADY
	That's not exactly what I meant by 
	constructive, Howard.

				HOWARD 
	I think James should try to be more 
	constructive. This is my second semester with 
	him. His stories are brutal, man. They make me 
	want to kill myself.

GRADY glances at James, but his face remains impassive. 
Then--with a visible sense of relief--GRADY notices the 
raised hand of the achingly beautiful HANNAH GREEN. 

				GRADY
	Yes, Hannah?

				HANNAH GREEN
	I think maybe we're missing the point. It 
	seems to me James' strength as a writer is that 
	he doesn't take us by the hand. He treats us 
	like adults. He respects us enough to forget 
	us. That takes . . . courage .

GRADY nods, smiles subtly. Appreciative.

				GRADY
	Well put, Hannah. And a good note to end on, I 
	think. 
		(as the students rise) 
	Don't forget about WordFest this weekend. And 
	remember: those of you driving V.I.P.s to 
	tonight's cocktail party need to have them at 
	the Chancellor's house no later than 5:30.

Hannah Green gathers her things, pauses by Grady.

				GRADY
	Thanks for that. He all right?

				HANNAH GREEN
	I think so. ..What about you?

				GRADY
	Me? Sure. Why?

				HANNAH GREEN
	Just checking.

GRADY watches her glide away in her CRACKED RED COWBOY 
BOOTS, then starts to exit himself. 

				JAMES LEER 
	Turn out the light, please.

GRADY pauses, studying the wan figure sitting at the back 
of the classroom, then--reluctantly-hits the switch on the 
wail, leaving James Leer alone in the DARK.

2	INT. STAIRWELL/CORRIDOR - AFTERNOON (MOMENTS LATER) 

GRADY hurries down the steps, then spies SARA GASKSLL, 
45, standing below. She is talking to a BOY with an armful 
of SLICK PROGRAMS.

				SARA 
		(calm but firm) 
	No, Elliot, I said five hundred programs for 
	today. This means we have no programs for the 
	weekend. This means that tomorrow morning, at 
	9AM, several hundred people will walk into Thaw 
	Hall and have absolutely no idea where they are 
	going. 
		(shaking her head) 
	It's all right, Elliot. I'll take care of it.

GRADY watches Sara take the programs, turn, and spot him. 
There is the slightest of hesitations, then....

				SARA 
	Professor Tripp.

				GRADY
	Chancellor.

				SARA 
	I got the message you called.

				GRADY
	I got the message you called too.

This hangs in the air, awkward somehow, then both nod and 
continue on, without so much as a backward glance. 

3	INT. GRADY'S CAR - MOVING

The RADIO BLASTS as GRADY pops the glove box, removes a 
JOINT as big as his pinky, and wheels his DARK MAROON '66 
GALAXIE RAGTOP away from campus, cruising under another 
BANNER:

WELCOME TO WORDFEST FEBRUARY 26-28

4	EXT. GALAXIE - MOVING.. - PITTSBURGH 

GRADY cruises past the three rivers and modest 
skyscrapers of downtown, sipping at the weed. 

5	INT. PITTSBURGH AIRPORT

GRADY rides the long, automated treadmill that runs half 
the length of the terminal, until...

6	INT. ARRIVAL GATE - PITTSBURGH AIRPORT

...TERRY CRABTREE--Grady's editor and friend-exits the 
tunnel with a STUNNING YOUNG WOMAN in a skin-tight black 
dress, bright red topcoat, and three-inch spike heels.  
Grinning devilishly, Crabtree whispers something in the 
woman's ear, then spots Grady.

				CRABTREE 
	Tripp!

				GRADY
	How are you, Crabtree?

				CRABTREE 
	Brimming. Say hello to my new friend, Miss 
	Antonia. . .uh. . . .

				WOMAN 
	Sloviak.

				CRABTREE 
	I took the liberty of inviting Antonia to 
	tonight's festivities. You don't mind, do you. 
	Trip? ?

				GRADY
		(a slight beat) 
	The more the merrier.

				MISS SLOVIAK 
	Terry was telling me about you on the plane. 
	It was ail so interesting.

				CRABTREE 
	I was explaining to Antonia how a book comes 
	to be published. What you do as a writer, what 
	I do as an editor...

				GRADY
	I sweat blood for five years and he checks for 
	spelling.

				MISS SLOVIAK 
		(indicating Crabtree) 
	That's exactly what he said.

				CRABTREE 
	We know each other pretty well. 
		(to Grady) 
	So where's Emily?

				GRADY
	Emily?

				CRABTREE 
	Your wife.

				GRADY
	Oh. We're picking her up. Downtown.

				CRABTREE 
	Perfect. Well then, shall we?

GRADY nods, but lingers briefly--studying the 
architecture of Miss Sloviak's ankles as she CLICKS off in 
her spike heels, arm in arm with Crabtree.

7	INT. BAGGAGE CAROUSEL - AIRPORT - MOMENTS LATER

GRADY and Crabtree watch suitcases tumble as Miss Sloviak 
sits across the way, inspecting her face in a compact.

				CRABTREE 
	Do you know how many times I've boarded an 
	airplane praying someone like her would sit 
	down beside me? Particularly while I'm on my 
	way to Pittsburgh.

				GRADY
	Lay off Pittsburgh. It's one of the great 
	cities.

				CRABTREE 
	If it can produce a Miss Sloviak you'll get no 
	argument from me.

				GRADY
	She's a transvestite.

				CRABTREE 
	You're stoned.

				GRADY
	She's still a transvestite.

				CRABTREE 
	Mm.

				GRADY
	Isn't she?

Crabtree ignores Grady's question, smiling placidly as he 
watches the carousel spin.

				CRABTREE 
	So how's the book?

GRADY stiffens. He had been expecting this, but not so 
soon. He tries to act casual.

				GRADY
	It's fine. It's done. Basically. I'm just sort 
	of. ..tinkering with it.

				CRABTREE 
	Great. I was hoping I could get a look at it 
	sometime this weekend. Think that might be 
	possible?

				GRADY
	I don't know. I'm sort of at a critical. . . 
	juncture .

				CRABTREE
	I thought you were tinkering.

				GRADY
	I just mean. . .

				CRABTREE
	Forget I asked. I don't want to pressure you, 
	Tripp. But...
		(pointedly)
	 ...I get pressure. Know what I mean?

GRADY ponders this, troubled by it. Suddenly, Crabtree's 
face brightens again.

				CRABTREE
	Ah. ..well now. What do you suppose that would 
	be?

GRADY turns, watches an immense PONY HIDE CASE drop onto 
the carousel.

				GRADY
	That would be a tuba.

8	INT. GRADY'S CAR - MOVING - LATE AFTERNOON                8

As the Galaxie emerges from a TUNNEL, GRADY watches the 
great city of Pittsburgh reveal itself in the distance, 
then glances in the rearview mirror.

				GRADY
	That perfume you're wearing, Antonia. It 
	wouldn't happen to be Cristaile, would it?

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Why yes. How did you know?

				GRADY
	Lucky guess.

				CRABTREE
	You didn't actually purchase this car, did 
	you. Trip??

				GRADY
	It was Jerry Nathan's. He owed me money.

				CRABTREE 
	He owes God money. You know, he queered 
	himself for good with Esquire.

GRADY takes a joint from the ashtray, snaps a Scripto 
butane.

				GRADY
	He said something about being between things.

				CRABTREE
	Yeah, between a bookie and a pair of broken 
	legs.

9	EXT. OFFICE BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER  

A YOUNG WOMAN with a crumpled PITTSBURGH STEEIERS 
UMBRELLA exits the building and-seeing GRADY parked in 
front of a fire hydrant--stops, a puzzled expression on her 
face. As she approaches, GRADY roils down the passenger 
window.

				GRADY
	Hi, Tanya. 
		(to the others) 
	This is Tanya. My wife's secretary.

CRABTREE and MISS SLOVIAK smile and nod. Tanya smiles and 
nods back, her eyes passing uneasily over Grady's joint.

				TANYA 
	Grady.. ..Emily's not here.

GRADY just smiles, nods.

				TANYA (cont'd) 
	Is there anything I can do for you?

GRADY watches a tiny stream of water trickle through 
Tanya's sad umbrella.

				GRADY
	You're leaking, Tanya.

Tanya nods--at a loss-then turns away into the rain.

				CRABTREE
	Trip? ?

				GRADY
	She left me. Crabs.

				CRABTREE
	Left you...?  Who? Emily?

				GRADY
	This morning. I found a note in the kitchen.

				CRABTREE
	But. ..why didn't you say something, Tripp? I 
	mean, what are we doing here?

GRADY gazes at the glittering scene beyond his 
windshield, turns on the ignition.

				GRADY
	I thought maybe I made it all up.

10	EXT. GASKELL HOUSE - EVENING 

Through the windows, a rabble of writers, faculty and 
select students can be SEEN, mingling under a haze of 
cigarette smoke. GRADY brings the Galaxie to a lurching 
halt across the street, parks in front of another fire 
hydrant. As the trio steps out. MISS SLOVIAK notices a 
GREENHOUSE, shimmering quietly in the chill night air.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	That's a nice greenhouse.

				GRADY
	It's Mrs. Gaskell's. Her hobby.

				CRABTREE
	I thought you were Mrs. Gaskell's hobby, 
	Tripp.

				GRADY
	Piss off, Crabs. I lost a wife today.

				CRABTREE
	Oh, I'm sure you'll find another. You always 
	do.

11	EXT. FRONT PORCH - GASKELL HOUSE  

As the front door swings open, Sara Gaskell appears, 
riding a wave of jagged party CHATTER onto the porch.

				SARA 
	Well, hello, everyone. Terry, good to see you 
	again. 

				CRABTREE
	Chancellor. Don't you look ravishing.

				SARA
	Aren't you sweet to say so. I was beginning to 
	wonder if you were ever going to--oh!

As Sara steps forward, her heel-catches and she pitches 
forward ...into Grady's arms.

				GRADY
	Easy there.

				SARA
	I'm sorry. It's these goddamned shoes. I don't 
	know how anyone actually walks in these things.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Practice.

Sara looks at Miss Sloviak, a faint glitter of scientific 
curiosity in her eye.

				SARA
	I don't believe we've met...

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Antonia. Antonia Sloviak--

Just then, a THICKLY-MUCSCLED DOG with very strange EYES 
skitters around the corner, BARKING SAVAGELY in the general 
direction of Grady.

				SARA
	Poe!

				CRABTREE
		(mildly)
	This wouldn't be Walter's dog, would it?

Poe continues to rage, his paws doing crazy eights on the 
hardwood floor, until he's spun himself completely around 
and is barking at the living room.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Who ' s he barking at now?

				GRADY
	He's still barking at me. He's blind.

				SARA
	Poe' Hush! Now stop this. Honestly.

As Poe simmers to a deep growl, GRADY leans forward.

				GRADY
	I need to talk to you.

				SARA
	That's funny. I need to talk to you, too. 
		(strategy in her tone)
	Perhaps you could put some of these coats in 
	the upstairs guest room, Professor Tripp.

				GRADY
		(reading her)
	I don't believe I know where the upstairs 
	guest room is.

				SARA
	Well then. I'd better show you. Terry--

				CRABTREE
	We'll just make ourselves at home.
		(kneeling by Poe) 
	Won't we, Poe? Yes, yes....

12	INT. UPSTAIRS ROOM 

GRADY enters a room swimming in BASEBAIL MEMORABILIA. 
AUTOGRAPHED BASEBALLS abound, as well as PHOTOGRAPHS of 
famous big-leaguers. In one somewhat-dated PHOTO a TRIM MAN 
IN HIS FORTIES (a younger Walter Gaskell) stands with 
PITTSBURGH PIRATE BILL MAZEROSKI at an old-timers game. As 
Sara eases the door shut, GRADY nods to a 1951 YANKEE'S 
PENNANT hanging over the mantle.

				GRADY
	New?

				SARA 
		(nodding)
	Walter just got it back from the framer today.

Sara takes Grady's hand, drawing him away from the 
pennant and down onto the coat-covered bed.

				SARA 
	You go first.

				GRADY
	All right. This morning--

				SARA 
	I'm pregnant.

A flash of LAUGHTER flutters from the living  room below. 
GRADY starts to speak.

				SARA 
	I'm sure.

				GRADY
	Well. This is...surprising. Does Walter... ?

				SARA
	I think Walter would find this a little more 
	than surprising.

GRADY nods, getting her drift, then roils onto his back.

				GRADY
	Emily left me this morning.

				SARA
	She's left before...

				GRADY
	She's left the room before. She always came 
	back.

Sara nods. Considers this.

				SARA
	So. I guess we just divorce our spouses, marry 
	each other, and have this baby, right? Simple.

				GRADY
	Simple.

GRADY and Sara stare at the ceiling. Sara sniffs the coat 
lying beneath her. Miss Sloviak's coat.

				SARA
	Is that Cristaile?

				GRADY
	Hm.

				SARA 
		(weary)
	My God, I wear the same scent as a 
	transvestite. She IS a transvestite, isn't: 
	she?

				GRADY
	If she's not now, Terry will make sure she is 
	by the end of the evening.

				SARA
	Has he asked to see the book yet?

				GRADY
	Yes.

				SARA
	And? Are you going to tell him?

				GRADY
	No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't know what I'm 
	going to do.

				SARA 
		(distantly) 
	Neither do 1.

GRADY starts to pull up, but his arm is underneath Sara.

				GRADY
	Sara, my arm. I'm stuck, honey.

				SARA
	I guess you're going to have to chew it off 
	then.

13	INT. LIVING ROOM - GASKELL HOUSE   

Poe noses blindly through a forest of legs, pauses by 
Miss Sloviak's high heels and scores a Rye Krisp. Crabtree, 
returning with a pair of DRINKS, tiptoes around him, finds 
MISS SLOVIAK chatting with a trim MAN in his 50's.

				CRABTREE
	Walter! I see you've met my friend.

				WALTER GASKELL 
	Yes . She' s charming.

				MISS SLOVIAK
		(taking her drink)
	Walter's been telling me the most fascinating 
	things about Marilyn Monroe and. ..who was it?

				WALTER GASKELL
	Joe DiMaggio. Simply put, Antonia, it' s my 
	contention that their marriage tapped into the 
	very id of American popular culture. Joe 
	DiMaggio represented, metaphorically speaking, 
	the Husband as Slugger.. And, though it may be 
	controversial, I personally believe every 
	woman, in some way, desires to be Marilyn 
	Monroe.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Oh, I couldn't agree more.

NEW ANGLE

GRADY works his way through the crowd, spies Walter, and 
changes course. Directly ahead is an oddly commanding MAN 
("Q"). From the behavior of the people in his vicinity it's 
clear he is someone of interest. Presently, he is putting 
the make on Hannah Green.

				Q
	And while my latest has been on the New York 
	Times bestseller list for 40 weeks, I can't 
	help but lament that my first book, which 
	contains what I consider my finest writing, was 
	remaindered in less than five. So, I find 
	myself conflicted.

				GRADY
	Ask him if he's conflicted about his house in 
	the Hamptons.

				HANNAH GREEN
		(brightening)
	Grady.

Q eyes GRADY over his wine glass.

				Q 
	Hello.. .Professor.

				GRADY
	Q,. Hannah's had two stories published in The 
	Paris Review. You'd best dust off the 'A' 
	material for her.

As GRADY moves off, he sees Poe sniffing, and goes the 
other way, heading directly into the crosshairs of a MAH IN 
TWEED, who is talking to another, shorter MAN.

				MAN IN TWEED 
		(to short man)
	A supermarket for the mind, my ass. I'm 
	telling you, they're nothing but a big, fat mob 
	laundry. Have you ever been to Davenport, Iowa? 
	Let me tell you, they need a 30,000-square-foot 
	bookstore like they need another goddamn cow.
		(as GRADY passes) 
	Grady!

				GRADY
	Hello, Nathan.

				MAN IN TWEED
	My God, I haven't seen you since, what? The 
	PEN/Faulkner Awards. That was a big night for 
	you, Grady.
		(to his friend)
	GRADY was there for Arsonist's Daughter,

The short man blinks, impulsively takes Grady's hand.

				SHORT MAN
	Douglas Triddly, Amherst. I kid you not when I 
	say Arsonist's Daughter belongs in the pantheon 
	of late twentieth century fiction. I've had it 
	on my Graduate Studies syllabus three years 
	running.

				GRADY
		(pulling away) 
	No wonder it's still in print.

As GRADY flees, he passes a WOMAN holding a cigarette.

				WOMAN WITH CIGARETTE
	...can take my word for it, writer's are lousy 
	fucks. Poets aren't bad, but then you've got to 
	deal with the sweater thing. They'll discover 
	the cancer in your heart every time, but God 
	forbid they find a decent dry cleaner.

14	EXT. REAR GASKELL HOUSE - NIGHT   

GRADY comes out the back: door and ferrets a JOINT from 
his pocket, lights it. He takes a long draw, walks around 
the side of the house. As he passes a window, a VOICE 
accosts him.

				MAN'S VOICE 
	There you are.

GRADY starts, but when he looks through the window, he 
sees that the VOICE belongs to WALTER GASKELL and the 
person to whom he's talking is Sara. They are standing in 
the kitchen, near an elaborate WINE RACK.  

				WALTER
	I could swear I had a '63 Chateau Latour in 
	here. You haven't seen it, have you?

				SARA
	I doubt I'd recognize a '63 Chateau Latour if 
	I was sitting on it.

				WALTER
	You'd recognize it if you tasted it.

				SARA
	I doubt it, darling.

				WALTER
		(angling & bottle to the light)
	Well, Q certainly will. And, given that he 
	will be addressing 500 people in little over an 
	hour...

				SARA
	You want to keep him happy.

				WALTER 
	If he' s happy. . .
		(kissing her as he exits) 
	I'm happy.

As Walter goes, GRADY studies Sara as she stands alone in 
the quiet little room, looking small and tired. Finally, 
she takes a breath, steeling herself, and moves off, 
returning to the clamor inside her house.

GRADY sighs, guilt-stricken, then detects a FLICKER of 
LIGHT coming from the darkness beyond. A FIGURE is watching 
him from the retaining wail that leads to the Gaskell's 
garage. GRADY blinks, chagrined that he's been caught 
eavesdropping, then his eyes narrow and he steps off the 
porch.

				GRADY
	James?

James Leer wears the same nasty overcoat from class, a 
GREEN KNAPSACK hanging off one shoulder. GRADY looks at 
what appears to be a sliver of moonlight in James' palm.

				JAMES LEER 
	It's fake.

James' face betrays his own fragile chagrin and GRADY 
peers more closely at what lies in his extended hand. The 
sliver of moonlight is, in fact, a shiny PEARL-HANDLED 
PISTOL.

				JAMES LEER
	It was my mother's. She won it in a penny 
	arcade in Baltimore when she was in Catholic 
	school.

				GRADY
	It's very convincing.

				JAMES LEER
	It used to shoot these little paper caps, but 
	they don't make them anymore. The caps.

GRADY reaches for the gun, but James closes his fingers 
and slips the tiny thing back into his overcoat.

				JAMES LEER
	It's just. ..for good luck. Some people carry 
	rabbits' feet...

				GRADY
	...You carry firearms.

As GRADY exhales a plume of smoke, James' eyes pass 
briefly over the jay. GRADY
notices, offers.

				JAMES LEER
	No, thank you. I don't like to lose control of 
	my emotions.

GRADY nods, accustomed to James' weirdness.

				JAMES LEER
	I'm not supposed to be here, in case you were 
	wondering. I crashed. I mean, not 
	intentionally...

James nods toward the house, where Hannah Green can be 
seen in a window, still fending off the determined Q.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd)
	...but the other night, Hannah and I were 
	together, at the movies, and she asked me. 
	Since she was coming. So I ended up coming. 
	Too.

GRADY nods, ponders this over-elaborate explanation.

				GRADY
	Are you and Hannah seeing each other, James ?

				JAMES LEER 
	No! What gave you that idea?

				GRADY
	Relax, James. I'm not her father. I just rent 
	her a room.

				JAMES LEER
	She likes old movies like I do, that's ail.
		(glancing back at the window) 
	Besides, she doesn't really know me. She 
	thinks she does, but she doesn't. Maybe it's 
	because she's Mormon and I'm Catholic.

				GRADY
	Maybe it's because she's beautiful and she 
	knows it and try as she might to not let that 
	screw her up, it's inevitable that it will in 
	some way.

James looks away from the window, at Grady.

				JAMES LEER
	You're not like my other teachers, Professor 
	Tripp.

				GRADY
	You're not like my other students, James. So 
	what was the movie you two saw?

				JAMES LEER
	Huh? Oh. Son or Fury. With Tyrone Power and 
	Frances Farmer.

				GRADY
	She went crazy, Frances Farmer.

				JAMES LEER
	So did Gene Tierney. She's in it too.

				GRADY
	Sounds like a good one.

				JAMES LEER 
		(a crooked smile) 
	It's not bad.

GRADY considers James' fragile face.

				GRADY
	Listen, James, about this afternoon. In 
	workshop. I'm sorry. I think I let things get a 
	bit out of control.

				JAMES LEER
	They really hated it. I think they hated it 
	more than any of the other ones.

				GRADY
	Well...

				JAMES LEER
	It doesn't matter. It only took me an hour to 
	write.

				GRADY
		(truly impressed) 
	Really? That's remarkable.

				JAMES LEER
	I have trouble sleeping. While I'm lying in 
	bed I figure them out. The stories.

As James gazes off at the gloaming greenhouse, GRADY 
looks down at the left front POCKET of James' overcoat. 
Like a nervous tic, James' hand- hidden-twitches against 
the modest bulk of the cap gun.

				GRADY
	You cold, James?

				JAMES LEER 
		(distant) 
	A little.

				GRADY
	So what are you doing out here?

				JAMES LEER 
	It's colder in there. -

				GRADY
		(laughing) 
	You're right.

James blinks, startled by Grady's laughter, startled that 
he's said something funny. He looks back to the greenhouse

				JAMES LEER
	Actually, I saw the greenhouse. So I thought 
	...I thought I'd come out here and take a look 
	at it. You don't see one of those every day. It 
	looks like heaven...

				GRADY
	Heaven?

				JAMES LEER
	I saw a movie once. Part of it took place in 
	heaven. Everyone wore white and lived in 
	crystal houses. Like that. At least that's the 
	way I remember it...

Abruptly, James glances at his watch.

				JAMES LEER 
	I should be going.

James turns away, then stops. He stands like this a 
moment, then turns back. Holds out his right hand.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd) 
	Goodbye, Professor Tripp.

GRADY hesitates, then shakes James' hand. James moves off 
then, leaving the light of the house behind.

				GRADY
	James. 
		(as he stops)
	Don't leave just yet. There's something I 
	think you ought to see.

				JAMES LEER 
	I'll miss my bus.

				GRADY
	This is worth it.

James looks conflicted.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
	Trust me.

15	INT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER  

It's quieter now, the party winding down, as GRADY sneaks James past 
the departing guests and toward the stairs.        

				HANNAH GREEN
	Hey, you two.

GRADY stops, sees Hannah slipping on a coat in the foyer.

				HANNAH GREEN (cont'd) 
	Are you riding with me, James?

				JAMES LEER 
	No, I'm going ho--

				GRADY
	He's going with me. You take Crabtree. And his 
	friend. All right?

				HANNAH GREEN
	Ail right. By the way, his friend...?

				GRADY
	The answer's yes. I think. Yes. I don't know. 
	Where are they exactly?

				CRABTREE
	Here we are!

CRABTREE appears at the top of the landing with Miss 
Sloviak. Her lipstick is blurry.

				CRABTREE
		(spying James) 
	Nell, hello there.

CRABTREE steps down the stairs, hand extended. James 
Leer's pale fingers rise as if on a string.

				GRADY
	James. This is my editor, Terry Crabtree.

				HANNAH GREEN
	James'll know about George Sanders.

				JAMES LEER 
	George Sanders?

				HANNAH GREEN
	Mr. CRABTREE was saying how George Sanders 
	killed himself, only he couldn't remember how.

				JAMES LEER
	Pills. August 25, 1972. In a Costa Brava hotel 
	room.

The few people within earshot glance oddly at James, but 
Crabtree's eyes glitter with intrigue.

				CRABTREE
	How comprehensive of you.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Oh, James is amazing. He knows all the movie 
	suicides. Go ahead, James. Tell them who else.

				JAMES LEER 
	There's so many...

				HANNAH GREEN
	Just a few then. The big ones.

James glances at the loose group of people around him, 
watching, then...

				JAMES LEER
	Pier Angeli, 1971 or '72, also pills. Charles 
	Boyer, 1978, pills again. Charles Butterworth, 
	1946, I think. In a car. Supposedly it was an 
	accident, but, you know. . . 
		(a trace of irony)
	He was distraught. Dorothy Dandridge, she took 
	pills in, like, 1965. Albert Dekker, 1968, he 
	hung himself. He wrote his suicide note in 
	lipstick on his stomach. Alan Ladd, '64, more 
	pills, Carole Landis, pills again, I forget 
	when. George Reeves, Superman on TV, shot 
	himself. Jean Seberg/ pills of course, 1979. 
	Everett Sioane-- he was good--pills. Margaret 
	Sullavan, pills, Lupe Velez, a lot of pills. 
	Gig Young. He shot himself and his wife in 
	1978. There are more but I don't know if you 
	would have heard of them. Ross Alexander? Clara 
	Blandick? Maggie McNamara? Gia Scaia?

				HANNAH GREEN
	I haven't heard of half of those.

				CRABTREE
	You did them alphabetically.

James turns, finds Crabtree's laser eyes on him. James 
blinks, as if he had forgotten about Crabtree, then shrugs 
shyly, looks away.

				JAMES LEER
	That's just how my brain works, I guess.

				CRABTREE
	Fascinating. Listen, why don't you come out 
	with us after the lecture. There's a place on 
	the Hill I always get Trip to take me.

				JAMES LEER
	Actually. ..I just want to go home.

				CRABTREE
	Oh, don't be silly. No one your age just wants 
	to go home. Besides, faculty will be present. 
	Just think of it as a field trip.

As he exits, CRABTREE raises an eyebrow to Grady, as if 
to say: "Bring him."   MISS SLOVIAK follows, eyeing James 
glacially as we CUT TO:

BLACK

The dull PURR of a COMBINATION LOCK is HEARD, a DOOR 
opens, and a triangle of LIGHT falls on a PHOTOGRAPH of 
MARILYN MONROES JOE DIMAGGIO on their wedding day.

16	INT. CLOSET - GASKELL HOUSE   

GRADY and James Leer stand in the doorway. Just below the 
photograph of Marilyn and Joe--hanging next to a PIN-
STRIPED JERSEY bearing the number 5--is a SHORT BLACK SATIN 
JACKET trimmed with an ERMINE COLLAR.

				JAMES LEER 
	Is that really it?

				GRADY
	That's really it.

				JAMES LEER
	The one she wore on her wedding day?

				GRADY
	So I'm told.

James, in the presence of the holy grail of suicide 
garments, stands speechless.

				GRADY
		(cont'd) 
	Go ahead.

				JAMES LEER 
	Really?

				GRADY
	Really.

James swallows, then'-goes to the jacket. Carefully, he 
reaches out his fingers and touches the yellowed collar, 
barely making contact, as though it might crumble to dust.

				JAMES LEER
	They're glass. The buttons.

				GRADY
	Like the lady herself.

GRADY says this airily, ironically, riding his buzz a 
bit, but James nods solemnly, eyes transfixed on the 
jacket, as if Marilyn herself were inside it.

				JAMES LEER
	She was small. Most people don't know that. 
	The shoulders are small.
		(touching the satin)
	It looks so perfect. I bet it's the only time 
	she wore it. That day. She must've felt so 
	...happy.

GRADY studies James as he takes the fringe of the jacket, 
lifts it lightly.

				JAMES LEER
	It's feels unreal, like butterfly wings or... 
	something. It must've cost Dr. Gaskell a lot.

				GRADY
	I guess. Walter never tells Sara the truth 
	about how much he pays for these things.

				JAMES LEER
	You're really good friends with the 
	Chancellor, aren't you?

Grady's eyes slide, paranoid, but James' face remains 
unchanged, consumed with the jacket.

				GRADY
		(carefully)
	Pretty good. I'm friends with Dr. Gaskell, 
	too.

				JAMES LEER
	I guess you must be, if you know the 
	combination to his closet and he doesn't mind 
	your being here in their bedroom like this.

				GRADY
	Right.

A DOOR SLAMS downstairs and GRADY and James jump. The 
CLICK of a woman's HIGH HEELS sends GRADY to the bedroom 
window, where he watches Sara slide into a WHITE CITROEN 
DS23, turn on the ignition, and motor away.

				GRADY
	We, better skedaddle. Close that closet-- 
	James? You ail right?

James is slumped on the Gaskell's white linen bed, 
knapsack between his knees, head in hands.

				JAMES LEER
	I'm sorry. Professor Tripp. Maybe it's seeing 
	that jacket that belonged to her. It just 
	looks...really lonely. Hanging there. In a 
	closet. Maybe I'm just a little sad.

				GRADY
	Maybe. I'm feeling a little sad myself 
	tonight.

				JAMES LEER 
	You mean, with your wife leaving you and ail? 
		(off Grady's look)
	Hannah mentioned something about it.   About a 
	note.

				GRADY
	Yes. Well. It's complicated, James. I think we 
	should go now.

Without thinking, GRADY flicks out the bedroom light, 
leaving James Leer in the dark for the second time today.

James just sits there, a shadow in a room of shadows.

17	INT. HALLWAY

A LOW RUMBLE freezes GRADY
as he enters the hail. A few feet away, Poe lies belly to 
the ground, his blind blue eyes trained, more or less, in 
Grady's direction.

				GRADY
	Okay. Easy now. Eee-zy. . . .

GRADY starts to take a step, when.... Poe shoots forward 
and sinks himself deep into Grady's ankle.

				GRADY
	Jesus!

GRADY hops gracelessly, momentarily lifting Poe off the 
ground as he swings his leg up. Poe, countering, rolls his 
head in a snapping motion and drops GRADY in a clumsy heap.

				GRADY
	Get off of me, you son-of-a-bitch!

Poe regains his feet, but doesn't let go, whipping his 
head back and forth, back and forth, over and over, 
growling low, dark, and hideously from the back of his 
throat, until there is a sharp...

CRACK! CRACK!

Poe YELPS, goes perfectly still, then topples heavily 
onto Grady's legs. GRADY
turns. James Leer stands in the doorway, posed with the 
little pearl-handled pistol like Steve McQueen.

GRADY looks at James. Then Poe. Then back to James.

				GRADY
	Shit, James. You shoe Dr. Gaskell's dog.

				JAMES LEER 
	I had to. Didn't I?

				GRADY
	Couldn't you've just pulled him off me?

				JAMES LEER
	No! He was crazy. I didn't-he looked-- 1 
	thought --

				GRADY
	Okay, okay. Take it easy. Don't freak out on 
	me.

GRADY roils down his sock. Apparently, Poe went through 
life with a slight overbite.

				JAMES LEER
	Do you have a mirror? It's the best way to see 
	if someone's breathing.

				GRADY
	He's dead, James. Believe me, I know a dead 
	dog when I see one.

James looks miserably at Poe.

				JAMES LEER
	What are we going to do?

GRADY rises awkwardly, holds out his hand.

				GRADY
	First you're going to give me that little cap 
	gun of yours.

18	INT. GALAXIE - MOVING 

GRADY and James stare gloomily out the windshield.

				JAMES LEER
	Professor Tripp? Can I  ask you a question?

				GRADY
	Yea, James.

				JAMES LEER 
	What are we going to do with...

James glances in the backseat, where Poe lies, strange 
blue eyes gleaming.

				GRADY
	I don't know. I'm still trying to figure out 
	how to tell the Chancellor I murdered her 
	husband's dog.

				JAMES LEER
	You?

				GRADY
	Trust me, James, when the family pet's been 
	assassinated, the owner doesn't want to hear 
	one of her students was the triggerman.

				JAMES LEER
	Does she want to hear it was one of her 
	professors?

				GRADY
	I've got tenure.

19	EXT. PARKING LOT -- THAW HALL (CAMPUS) 

As sporadic APPLAUSE wafts from the high windowpanes of 
Thaw Hall, GRADY leans into the Galaxie's trunk, creates a 
space between the tuba and a ZIPPERED SUITCASE.

				GRADY
	Okay.

James totters forward, arms hooked under Poe's front legs 
looking like a sorry marathon dancer. GRADY frowns, limps 
forward, and takes the hind legs.

				JAMES LEER
	He's still a little warm.

They lay him down, push him deep into the trunk--until 
there is a SOUND like a pencil SNAPPING.

				JAMES LEER 
	Yuck.

GRADY grabs Crabtree's garment bag, frisks the pockets.

				JAMES LEER 
	That's a. big trunk. It fits a tuba, a 
	suitcase, a dead dog, and a garment bag almost 
	perfectly.

				GRADY
		(searching)
	That's just what they used to say in the ads. 
	Come on, Crabtree, I know you're holding...

				JAMES LEER
	Whose tuba is that anyway? 

				GRADY
	Miss Sloviak's.

				JAMES LEER
	Can I ask you something about her?

				GRADY
	She is. Ah. Here we go...

GRADY unravels a pair of boxer shorts, finds an airplane-
size bottle of JACK DANIELS, then grabs another pair of 
boxers.

				JAMES LEER
	Oh. So. Is--is your friend Crabtree-- is he--
	gay?

				GRADY
	Most of the time he is, James. Some of the 
	time he isn't. Now what do we have here?

GRADY rattles a prescription bottle, then shakes out a 
pair of WHITE PILLS, each etched with a tiny numeral 3.

				GRADY
	Looks like ...our old friend Mr. Codeine. That 
	should take the pinch out of my ankle.
		(handing the bottle to James) 
	Have one.

				JAMES LEER
	No thanks. I'm fine without them.

				GRADY
	Right. That's why you were standing in the 
	Chancellor's back yard twirling that little cap 
	gun of yours tonight.  You're fine, all right, 
	you're fit as a fucking fiddle.

GRADY opens the tiny bottle of Jack with his teeth, 
drinks down two number 3's, then looks at James.

				GRADY
	I'm sorry, James. I'm sorry I said that.

Recklessly, James takes a pill, tosses it in his mouth, 
and tips back the tiny bottle of Jack. Half a second later, 
he spits it all out. GRADY looks down, peels the soggy pill 
from the lapel of his jacket.

				GRADY
	How 'bout we try that again.

20	INT. AUDITORIUM - LATER

On the stage. Walter Gaskell stands alone at a podium.

				WALTER
	...really needs no introduction. Walk down the 
	aisle of any airplane or by the pool of any 
	hotel and you'll see his face beaming back at 
	you. You all know the name, you all know the 
	books, so welcome if you will, the man those of 
	us who know him simply call.. .Q.

As the audience THUNDERS, GRADY and James slink into the 
auditorium. It's standing room only. As they head for an 
open space against the back wail, GRADY squeezes past a KID 
with a GOATEE .who regards him warily.

				Q 
	Good evening.

GRADY stares, over the gleaming sea of heads before him, 
watching as Q pauses, ..for a very long moment... waiting 
until the auditorium is consumed in a heavy, anticipatory 
hush. Finally, he speaks again.

				Q 
	I am a writer.

As the audience EXPLODES with glee, GRADY frowns. He 
glances to his right, sees James' left brow crinkled with a 
similar look of bafflement.

				Q (cont'd)
	As a writer, one thing you learn is that 
	everyone you encounter has a story. Every 
	bartender, every taxi driver, everybody has an 
	idea or a. story that would make a "great book" 
	or a "great movie." Presumably, each of you has 
	an idea. (gestures to the audience)
	But, how do you go from there to here? How do 
	you go from having an idea to having a book? 
	How do you get across? What is the bridge, the 
	bridge that allows you to walk on air from the 
	shoreline of inspiration to the terra firma of 
	accomplishment? Faith. Faith that your story is 
	worth the telling, faith that you have the 
	wherewithal to tell it, faith that the 
	carefully woven structure you create won't 
	collapse beneath you...

GRADY glances at James, sees that his eyes are unblinking 
and glazed, then sees, beyond him, Sara standing by the far 
EXIT. A blink later, she is gone.

				Q (cont'd)
	...and faith that when you get to the other 
	side someone will be waiting who gives a damn 
	about the tale you have to tell.

GRADY leans back, listening to the BEATING of his own 
HEART, the soft GLIMMER of the chandeliers hanging by a 
thread forty feet above his head...

Abruptly, James LAUGHS OUT LOUD--some private amusement: 
bubbling up from the bottom or his brain and out into the 
auditorium. As Q looks and four hundred other heads turn, 
James ducks down--mortified. Crabtree, sitting a few rows 
away, studies James with amusement, then winks at Grady.

GRADY blinks, turns to James.

				GRADY
	I'll be right back.

21	INT. LOBBY

GRADY bursts through the auditorium doors and into the 
lobby. A PAIR. of local BOOKSELLERS, chatting quietly 
behind a table arrayed with the BOOKS of attending authors, 
glance up as GRADY limps toward the restrooms. 

22	INT. CORRIDOR  

GRADY stumbles down the sloping carper, but the corridor 
begins to turn sideways on him and he stops, resting his 
cheek against the cool...cool...wall. ..as...ail..-goes....

BLACK FOR A 

MOMENT AND THEN....

				SARA'S VOICE 
	Grady? Grady?

GRADY opens his eyes, finds Sara's face swimming above 
him. He is lying on his back in the corridor, his corduroy 
blazer bundled under his head like a pillow.

				SARA
	You had another one, didn't you? You have to 
	see a doctor, Grady. First thing Monday 
	morning. All right?

				GRADY
	Is the thing-is it over?

				SARA 
	Almost. Wane to sit up?
		(as he winces) 
	What's the matter?

				GRADY
	Nothing. I think I twisted my--

GRADY looks at his ankle and feels a rush of guilt.

				GRADY
	I have to tell you something. Something.. 
	.hard.

Sara's face stiffens, becomes more Chancelloresque.

				SARA
	Then stand up. I'm too old for all this 
	roiling around on the floor.

GRADY lets her pull him up, watches her light a 
cigarette.

				GRADY
	Well...

				SARA
	Don't. I know what you're going to say.

				GRADY
	No, really, Sara, I don't think you--

				SARA
	You love Emily. I know that. And you need to 
	stay with her.

				GRADY
	I don't think I really have a choice in, that. 
	Emily left me.

				SARA
	She'll come back. That's why I'm going to. 
	..to not have this baby.

GRADY watches her flip her hand up, bring the cigarette 
to her lips, and inhale ...then grimace and drop it to the 
floor.

				GRADY
	Not have it.

				SARA
	No. There's no way. I mean, don't you think 
	there's no way?

				GRADY
	Well, no, I don't see any way.
		(taking her hand)
	And I know how hard it is for you to-- to lose 
	this chance.

				SARA
		(jerking away)
	No you don't. And fuck you for saying you do. 
	And fuck you for "saying. . .
		(quietly)
	...for saying there's just no way. Because 
	there could be a way, Grady.

Somewhere deep in the building, APPLAUSE swells.

				SARA
		(composing herself)
	He must be finishing. We should go.

GRADY looks sadly at Sara then stoops to retrieve his 
coat.  As he grabs it, James Leer's little pistol CLATTERS 
to the floor.

				SARA
	Who's gun is that?

				GRADY
	It's-it's a souvenir. Of Baltimore.

Before GRADY can close his hand, Sara has it in her own.

				SARA
	Heavy. Smells like gunpowder.

				GRADY
	Caps.

She points it-at Grady's chest. He smiles nervously.

				SARA 
	Pow.

				GRADY
	You got me.

				SARA
	I love you, Grady.

GRADY places his fingers gently over Sara's... and 
removes the gun from her hand.

				GRADY
	I love you, too.

23	INT. LOBBY 

The auditorium doors swing open and James Leer emerges, 
arms draped over CRABTREE and a LARGE STUDENT.

				JAMES LEER
	Woah! The doors made so much noise!

As they make for the restrooms, Sara and GRADY appear.

				JAMES LEER
	This is so embarrassing! You guys had to carry 
	me out.

				GRADY
	Is he ail right?

				CRABTREE
		(rolling his eyes) 
	He's fine. He's narrating.

				JAMES LEER 
	We're going to the men's room. Only we might 
	not make it in time.

				SARA
	Terry CRABTREE and James Leer. Leave it to you 
	to make that mistake, wait here.

As Sara heads off after James, GRADY turns toward the 
lobby...directly into the hostile gaze of Miss Sloviak.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	I need a ride.

				GRADY
	I'm your man.

24	EXT. STREET 24

As the Galaxie's big trunk yawns open. MISS SLOVIAK 
stares at what's wedged up against her suitcase.

				GRADY
	There's an explanation.

MISS SLOVIAK raises an eyebrow and then, leaning in, 
unzips her suitcase.

25	INT.    GRADY'S CAR - MOVING   

As GRADY drives, MISS SLOVIAK finishes with the top 
button of a man's shirt, then reaches into the zippered 
COSMETICS BAG in her lap. Onto the open tray of the 
glovebox, she places a JAR of COLD CREAM, a BOTTLE of NAIL 
POLISH REMOVER, and a cloud of COTTON BALLS.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Couldn't he have just thrown a shoe at the 
	poor thing?

				GRADY
	James is. ..I don't know...

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Disturbed. And when your friend CRABTREE gets 
	done with him, he's going to be even more 
	disturbed.

				GRADY
	I'm not sure that's possible.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Sure it is.

GRADY watches MISS SLOVIAK peel the wig from her 
forehead.

				GRADY
	Listen, Antonia--

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Tony. Now that I'm home.

				GRADY
	Tony. I'm sorry if things didn't work out so 
	well for you tonight. With Terry.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Forget it. I should've known better. Your 
	friend is just, I don't know, into collecting 
	weird tricks. Mind?

Tony angles the rearview mirror toward himself.

				GRADY
	He's writing his name in water.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	What's that?

				GRADY
	Like most editors, he really wants to be a 
	writer, but he's too busy living a novel to 
	bother writing one.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	That sounds like a fancy excuse for being a 
	shit.

				GRADY
	He'd call it habit. But now. ..I get the 
	feeling he's going through the motions a bit.

Tony peels off a pair of false eyelashes, blinks.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	You mean because his career's ruined and all?

				GRADY
	Jesus. Is that what he told you?

				MISS SLOVIAK
	He said he hasn't had a success in ten years 
	and everyone in New York thinks he's kind of 
	.a. . .

As Tony re-sets the rearview mirror, GRADY gets a glimpse 
of his own swollen eyes.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	...loser. But I'm sure your book is so good 
	that he'll be able to keep his job.

Hearing this, GRADY looks troubled. MISS SLOVIAK points.

				MISS SLOVIAK
		(cont'd) 
	Turn here.

26	EXT. SLOVIAK HOUSE

GRADY pulls in front of a small brick house. On the front 
lawn, a small statue of the BLESSED VIRGIN stands under a 
little white BAND SHELL painted with stars.

				GRADY
	That'' s nice. All we have is a Japanese 
	beetle trap.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	It's a bathtub. What she's standing under.

The PORCH LIGHT conies on and a SMALL, WHITE-HAIRED MAN 
squints through the screen door.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	There's Pop. 
		(turning)
	Let me see it. The gun.

GRADY reaches into his pocket, hands it over. Tony 
smirks.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	Figures. It's like the kind of gun Bette Davis 
	would carry. In a little beaded purse?

GRADY studies the gun in Tony's hand, then glances at the 
front screen door. Pop is still there.

				GRADY
	I'd better go. I think I may have to rescue 
	James Leer.

MISS SLOVIAK returns the gun, .steps out of the car, and 
peers in at Grady.

				MISS SLOVIAK
	You know, Grady, if I were you. I'd think 
	about going home. You look like you need a 
	little rescuing yourself.

27	EXT. PARKING LOT - HI-HAT CLUB 

GRADY parks near a VAN that has KRAVNIK'S SPORTING GOODS 
stenciled on the side. He watches a BOUNCER frisk a patron 
in the PINK LIGHT of the Hi-Hat Club's entrance, then 
slides -James Leer's little PISTOL into the glovebox.

27A	EXT. ENTRANCE - HI-HAT CLUB     

As GRADY steps to the door, the bouncer gives him a 
perfunctory pat-down.

				BOUNCER 
		(kidding him) 
	Clean tonight, hub, Professor?

				GRADY
	As a whistle.

28	INT. 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.

29	INT. 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 oŁ 
	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.

30	INT. 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.

31	EXT. 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
	Shit. 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.

Vernon Hardapple.

				VERNON HARDAPPLE 
	You driving this car?

				GRADY
	Excuse me?

				VERNON HARDAPPLE
	This 1966 maroon Ford Galaxie 500. You driving 
	this car?

				GRADY
	It's mine.

				VERNON HARDAPPLE 
	Bullshit. It's mine, motherfucker.

				GRADY
	You must be mistaken.

				VERNON HARDAPPLE 
	Bullshit.

GRADY shakes his head wearily, opens the door.

				GRADY
	Go home to your mother, Vernon.

32	INT. GALAXIE      

GRADY slides in next to Q, puts the car in gear, and 
starts to pull away. As he glances in the rearview, he sees 
CRABTREE smiling darkly in the backseat.

				GRADY

	All right, what's the matter?

CRABTREE just keeps smiling.

				GRADY
	Christ, Crabs, what do you expect me to do? 
	The kid's practically in a coma.

				CRABTREE
	Tripp.

				GRADY
	Yes.

				CRABTREE
	Hit your brakes.

GRADY flicks his eyes from the rearview mirror just as a 
SHADOW looms in his headlights. As he squashes the break 
pedal, Q's EYEGLASSES go flying into the windshield.

				Q 
		(squinting)
	Oh my God! What is that?

It's Vernon, waving his arms, his shadow enormous in the 
beams of light.

				GRADY
	What's this guy's problem?

				CRABTREE
	Just go around him.

GRADY taps the accelerator, but each time, Vernon dances 
back in front of Grady's grille.

				GRADY
	Shit.

				CRABTREE
	Back up. Go out the other way.

GRADY throws the car in reverse, backs straight up, then 
turns up a one-way street. He shoots down the alley behind 
the Hi-Hat, turns onto the adjoining street, ..and watches 
in amazement as Vernon materializes from behind the high 
wooden fence that runs parallel to the Galaxie.

As GRADY pinches the brakes, Vernon grins.

				GRADY
	Now what?

				Q
		(mischievously)
	You could always go over him.

Then, as the three men watch, Vernon rocks back on his 
heels and--with a gymnast's precision-pitches himself onto 
the Galaxie's big hood. He -lands on his ass, slides 
smoothly off, then takes a deep bow and disappears into the 
night.

				Q 
	What just happened?

GRADY peers at the wrinkled asterisk on his hood.

				GRADY
	I just had my car jumped on.

33	EXT. THAW HAIL - NIGHT (TWENTY MINUTES LATER) 

Grady stops the car in the red zone and gets out.

				GRADY
	Wait here. I'll be right back.

				CRABTREE
	Where would we go?

34	INT. LOBBY   

The JANITOR, the same shaggy-haired kid GRADY saw rigging 
the WordFest banner earlier, is struggling with a balky 
FLOOR WAXER as GRADY steps up to the double doors and slaps 
his hand against the glass.

				JANITOR 
	It's open.

GRADY pushes on the door and it opens.

				JANITOR (cont'd) 
	Hey, Professor Tripp. 
		(off Grady's look)
	Traxler. Sam. I took your class freshman year. 
	Then I dropped out of school.

				GRADY
	I hope it wasn't my fault.

				TRAXLER
		(taking him seriously)
	No. I guess you're here for the backpack. 

				GRADY
	Oh.. .yeah.

35	INT. AUDITORIUM       

The knapsack is sitting on one of the metal folding 
chairs as Sam and GRADYenter the silent hail.


				TRAXLER
	I saw the manuscript inside. So when you 
	showed up, I figured. . .

GRADY lifts the knapsack, peers inside. There is no title 
page to the MANUSCRIPT, Just the words The Love Parade and 
then, halfway down, TEXT.

				TRAXLER 
	Is it good?

				GRADY
		(reading)
	I don't know. It might be...

36     CUT

37	EXT. THAW HALL - NIGHT - A MOMENT LATER 

GRADY steps outside, closes the flap of the knapsack and, 
hunching his shoulders against the cold... stops.

Crabtree. Q. The car. Gone. 

38	INT. TRAXLER'S HONDA - NIGHT   

Traxler gives GRADY a ride in his Honda, one of the 
original Hondas best suited for sidewalk driving. The 
backseat bulges with a huge AMPLIFIER and BASS GUITAR.

				TRAXLER
	Say, Professor Tripp, is ail that stuff true 
	about Errol Flynn? How he used to put coke on 
	his dick. To make himself, you know, like, last 
	longer?

				GRADY
	Christ, Traxler. How the hell should I know?

				TRAXLER 
	Well, jeez, you're reading his biography, 
	aren't you?

Sam points and GRADY glances at the knapsack riding on 
the seat between him and Sam. A BOOK'-bearing ERROL FLYNN'S 
PICTURE--IS tucked into the side pouch.

				GRADY
	Oh, right. Yeah, that's true. He used to rub 
	ail kinds of things on it. Paprika. Ground 
	lamb.

				TRAXLER 
	Sick.

39	EXT. SASKELL'S HOUSE - NIGHT (MOMENTS LATER)

Sam brings the car to a coughing idle across the street 
from the Gaskell's house.

				TRAXLER
	Wow, check out that greenhouse. Is that your 
	wife?

GRADY gazes at Sara, a .vaporous blur in the greenhouse.

				GRADY
	No, my wife's out of town.

Just then, the Honda FILLS WITH LIGHT. HEADLIGHTS loom, 
then a POLICE CAR sweeps into the Gaskell's driveway. 
Walter appears on the front steps.

				TRAXLER (cont'd) 
	Who's that guy?

				GRADY
	Her husband.

Traxler looks anxiously at the police car.

				TRAXLER
	What exactly are we doing here, Professor 
	Tripp?

				GRADY
		(staring at Sara) 
	Taking the long way home.

39A	EXT. GRADY'S HOUSE - NIGHT - A LITTLE LATER

As Traxler drives away, GRADY mounts the porch with James 
Leer's knapsack hanging from one shoulder. He reaches above 
the door, feeling for a key, but his fingers come away with 
only dust. He stands, dispirited, then an idea strikes. He 
takes the doorknob, turns it. It opens.

40	INT. .HALLWAY - GRADY'S HOUSE

GRADY enters, closes the door quietly behind him.

41	INT. LIVING ROOM     

The room is dim but the TV is on, throwing crazy slashes 
of light onto the wails and ceiling. As GRADY limps by, he 
finds a sleeping Hannah Green, bundled in a blanket, T-
shirt, and little else. On the floor, near her dangling 
hand, Woolf's A Common Reader lays open next to a Diet 
Coke. GRADY considers the smooth geography of her body, but 
his eyes 'are most powerfully drawn to. ..her feet. He 
steps forward, lifts the blanket gently, but finds-to his 
disappointment--only the red cowboy boots.

He picks up the remote, turns off the TV, and exits.

42	INT. GRADY'S OFFICE

James Leer slumbers on a green sofa, draped in an old 
sleeping bag. GRADY drops behind his desk, lets James' 
knapsack slide to the floor. He lifts his cuff, inspects 
his ugly ankle, then glimpses something in the knapsack.

Something yellow. Something soft.

GRADY reaches down and, slowly--like a magician producing 
a magical scarf-extracts MARILYN MONROE'S WEDDING JACKET 
from James Leer's ratty green knapsack. 

GRADY glances at the young man on his sofa, then, looking 
very tired, reaches for the desk lamp ...and turns out the 
light on the both of them.

43	EXT. FRONT PORCH - SATURDAY MORNING (NEXT DAY) 

GRADY steps outside in a WOMAN'S CHENILLE BATHROBE and 
plucks the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette from the second porch 
step. He fishes out a charred ROACH, starts to light it, 
then notices the Galaxie sitting in the driveway.

44	INT. GUEST BEDROOM - MINUTES LATER     

As CRABTREE SNORES thunderously, GRADY eases open the 
door, spots the CAR KEYS on the dresser, grabs them.

44A	INT. LANDING - CONTINUOUS

GRADY eases the door shut, starts to turn, then stops, 
his eyes drawn to the door just across the landing from 
Crabtree's room.

44B	INT. EMILY'S OFFICE 

GRADY pushes open the door with the tips of his fingers, 
lets it glide open. The room that is revealed is bright and 
well-ordered, in direct contrast to the lazy clutter of 
Grady's office. There is a DRAFTING TABLE and a COMPUTER, 
pads and pens neatly arranged alongside.

A BULLITEN BOARD hangs on one wall, bearing an intricate 
mosaic of multi-colored index cards. There are PRINTS, 
framed, from various art exhibits, and two of Grady's 
DHSTJACKETS--including, most prominently, Arsonist's 
Daughter.

There are PHOTOGRAPHS of EMILY too. In a black turtleneck 
with friends. In a sundress with Grady. In a billowing 
Burberry, floating like a dark butterfly against a BLUR of 
YELLOW TAXIS on a street in Manhattan.

Smiling brilliantly. Beautiful.

45	INT. GRADY'S OFFICE

GRADY enters with a THERMOS--pauses--redistributes the 
sleeping bag over James Leer's pale body.

				JAMES LEER 
		(without waking) 
	Thank you.

				GRADY
	You're welcome.

GRADY sits at his desk, pours himself a cup of coffee 
from the thermos, then sets the cup directly in the center 
of a galaxy of previous coffee rings. Next, he takes a 
clean piece of paper, balls it up, and-with ritual 
precision-strokes it into the MINIATURE BASKETBALL HOOP 
that crowns the rim of the WASTE BASKET across the room.

All net.

A 9-VOLT CROWD ROAR belches from the hoop and, without 
further ceremony, GRADY
turns to the blank page curling from his IBM SELECTRIC 
and SPACES to the top right corner, TYPES:

	(beat) 2611

In other words: Page 2611.

CLOSE UP - THE TYPEWRITER PAPER -- darkening with WORDS, 
the KEYS SNAPPING faster and faster, a CRAZY CLAMOR that 
grows and grows until, finally, it just ....Stops.

				GRADY
	James I  

GRADY awakes with his back to the floor, James leer's 
quizzical face floating like a cloud above him.

				GRADY
	I'm okay. I just lost my balance.

				JAMES LEER 
	I put you on the floor.

				GRADY
	Oh.

				JAMES LEER
	I thought you might--l don't know-- swallow 
	your tongue or something.
		(nodding to Grady's robe)
	I guess you really miss her, huh?

GRADY peers down at the geraniums blooming on the pockets 
of the robe, its overall fuzziness.

				GRADY
	Huh? Oh, no. This isn't Emily's. I just write 
	in it.

				JAMES LEER
	I guess there's probably a story behind that.

				GRADY
	There is, but it's not that interesting.

James nods. Down the hallway, in another room, the 
TELEPHONE RINGS.

				JAMES LEER 
	Want me to get that?

				GRADY
	Sure.

As James shuffles away in the sleeping bag, GRADY rises 
delicately and turns toward the window, ..just in time to 
see a POLICE CAR roil slowly by on the screen below.

				JAMES LEER 
		(returning)
	He didn't give his name.

				GRADY
	Who?

				JAMES LEER 
	The guy on the phone.

				GRADY
	What'd he say?

				JAMES LEER
	He wanted to know if a GRADY Trip? lived here 
	and drove a dark maroon 1966 Ford Galaxie 500 
	with black interior.

				GRADY
	What'd you tell him?

				JAMES LEER
	Yes.

				GRADY
	Good, James. If the Zodiac killer calls, be 
	sure to mention the back door pops open with a 
	couple hard shakes to the right.

				JAMES LEER
	I thought maybe you'd won a radio contest or 
	something. Is that single-spaced?

James has noticed the towering stack of 20 Ib. bond on 
Grady's desk.

				GRADY
	Afraid so.

				JAMES LEER
	That's a big book you're writing.

				GRADY
	I think it's sort of writing itself at this 
	point.

				JAMES LEER
	Wow, Hannah always swore you were working, 
	but--

				GRADY
	But . . . ?

				JAMES LEER
	Nothing, it's just that,, well, it's been 
	awhile since Arsonist's Daughter, and some 
	people--some of the kids in workshop--thought 
	maybe you were...

				GRADY
	Washed up?

				JAMES LEER 
	Blocked.

				GRADY
	Ah. I don't believe in writer's block.

James takes another glance at the mammoth manuscript.

				JAMES LEER
	No kidding.

A LOUD HACKING is HEARD. GRADY and James turn, watch 
Crabtree, wearing only a pair of striped boxers, 
materialize in the hallway.

				CRABTREE
	Good morning, boys. James.

James waves feebly from beneath the sleeping bag.

				GRADY
		(re: James' "attire") 
	If-you 're planning on staying for breakfast, 
	I'd put on something a little less comfortable 
	if I were you.

As GRADY moves to his desk to reacquaint himself with the 
page curling from the typewriter, James continues to stare 
into the emptiness of the hallway. The sight of CRABTREE 
seems to have made him suddenly queasy.

				JAMES LEER 
	Professor Tripp?

				GRADY
	Hm.

				JAMES LEER 
	How did I get here last night?

				GRADY
	No one seems to know where you live, James. 
	Hannah thought you'd like my couch.

				JAMES LEER
	And ...and before that. Did I do anything? 
	Anything bad?

				GRADY
	Well, James, you did shoot the Head of the 
	English Department's dog and steal his most 
	prized piece of memorabilia.

As James contemplates this, the DOORBELL RINGS. GRADY 
looks up, sees the POLICE CAR he noticed earlier, now 
parked at the bottom of his driveway.

				GRADY
	Do yourself a favor, James ...Hide.

46	EXT. FRONT PORCH

A POLICEMAN not much older than James Leer waits. As the 
door opens, GRADY
appears.

				OFFICER PUPCIK
	Good morning... 
		(eyeing Grady's robe)
	Professor Tripp? Sorry to bother you, sir, but 
	I understand you attended an event at Sara and 
	Walter Gaskell's house last night and were one 
	of the last to leave...

47	INT. LANDING - SAME TIME                                  47

James lurks at the top of the stairs, swaddled in the 
sleeping bag, straining to hear.

				OFFICER PUPCIK (O.S.)
	...was just wondering if maybe you saw anyone. 
	Someone you didn't know. Who seemed out of 
	place. Suspicious maybe...

48	EXT. FRONT PORCH 

GRADY is  scratching his head in mock thought.

				GRADY
	Well, there's always people you don't know at 
	these things, but I can't say there was anybody 
	particularly suspicious. ..Wait. There was one 
	guy. Tiny fella. Claimed to be a jockey.

				OFFICER PUPCIK 
	A jockey? You mean, like--

				GRADY
	Horses, right. Vernon something...
		(thinking... )
	Hardpple

Pupcik stops on his pad, looks up.

				OFFICER PUPCIK 
	Hardapple?

				GRADY
	I could be wrong. What happened anyway?

				OFFICER PUPCIK
	Huh? Oh, someone pulled a B&E on Dr. Gaskell's 
	closet. And the dog's missing.

				GRADY
	That's weird.

				OFFICER PUPCIK
	We figure the perpetrator let him out. He's 
	blind and we figure he just wandered off and 
	got run over.

				GRADY
	The perpetrator.

				OFFICER PUPCIK
	No, the dog.

				GRADY
	Just kidding.

Pupcik nods slowly, as if re-filing GRADY under "Dealing 
With Assholes."

				OFFICER PUPCIK
	One other thing. About this kid, this student 
	of yours- Leer--James Leer. You wouldn't know 
	how I could get in touch with him, would you?

				GRADY
	I might have his number on campus.

				OFFICER PUPCIK 
	That's all right. We'll find him.

Pete Pupcik smiles, tips his big blue police hat, and 
turns away. GRADY frowns, starts to close the door...

				HANNAH GREEN (O.S.) 
	There you are...

GRADY stiffens, then turns to find Hannah Green across 
the room in her t-shirt and cowboy boots, looking ail dewy-
eyed and delectable.

				HANNAH GREEN
	I thought we were going to talk. Last night.

				GRADY
	Oh. Well. I...

Hannah stretches and the t-shirt slides dangerously up 
her thighs.

				HANNAH GREEN
	It's okay. ..I'm here when you want me.

GRADY stands frozen as Hannah smiles sleepily, pushes 
through the swinging door into the kitchen. A THUMPING is 
heard as James, tangled in the sleeping bag, hitches down 
the last few steps of the stairway. He watches Pete Pupcik 
drive away in his big police car.

				JAMES LEER 
	What do we do now?

#####Before GRADY can reply, .the TELEPHONE sitting on the table next to him 
#####RINGS.

				GRADY
	Hello?

				SARA'S VOICE
	Grady, it's Sara. Thank God you're there. You 
	won't believe what's happened.

				GRADY
	Could you hold on a minute, honey?

With a look of wonderment, GRADY watches his hand ever-
so- gently ...hang up the phone.

				GRADY
	How 'bout we get the hell out of here?

49	EXT. GRADY'S HOUSE - MORNING (MOMENTS LATER) 

James, now wearing one of Grady's flannel shirts beneath 
his ratty overcoat, follows Grady-to the Galaxie, knapsack 
swinging from his shoulder. GRADY tosses him a ring of 
KEYS.

				GRADY
	You start her up.

As GRADY runs a plastic WEDGE over the GLAZE of ice 
blanketing the windshield, James stares curiously at the 
keys, as if they were some strange artifact, then slides 
behind the steering wheel.

				JAMES LEER
		(as the engine roars) 
	How's that?

				GRADY
	Well done, James.

As GRADY works, James' face comes into view, then ...the 
wedge SNAPS, splintering into the flesh of Grady's hand.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
	Shit!

James blinks, pokes his head out the window.

				JAMES LEER
	You're bleeding. Professor Tripp.

50	INT. AISLE - MARKET - MORNING (LATER)   

GRADY and James stand in the sundries aisle of a 
neighborhood MARKET. GRADY
has a TIN of BAND-AIDS open and is presently plastering 
his ragged thumb.

				GRADY
	Where exactly do you live, James?

James, in the midst of chugging from a 64-OUNCE JUG of 
ORANGE JUICE, stops.

				GRADY
	Apparently not even Hannah Green has a clue as 
	to the location of your apartment.

GRADY tosses the tin of band-aids into a small plastic 
hand basket, begins to move down the aisle.

				JAMES LEER
	I got kicked out. Well, not exactly kicked 
	out. I was asked to leave.

				GRADY
	I guess there's probably a story behind that.

				JAMES LEER
	There is, but it's not that interesting.

				GRADY
	So where have you been staying?

				JAMES LEER 
		(a long pause) 
	The bus station.

GRADY stares incredulously at James.

				JAMES LEER
	It's not -so bad. I know the night janitor. 
	And there's a broken locker I can put my stuff.

				GRADY
		(trying to fathom this) 
	But James. I mean. ..How long?

				JAMES LEER
	A couple weeks. That's why... that's why I had 
	the gun. For protection.

				GRADY
	Jesus, James, you should've told someone.

				JAMES LEER 
	Who?

				GRADY
	I don't know...
		(unconvincingly)
	Me.

GRADY drops the basket at the check-out counter and, 
abruptly, finds himself face to face with a BABY, lolling 
on the shoulder of the woman before him. The baby is 
staring, spellbound, at a display of...Q'S LATEST 
PAPERBACK. GRADY
frowns, then detects the true source of enchantment: a 
spray of SHINY MYLAR GIFT BALLOONS.

A thought evolves.

				GRADY (cont'd)
		(the balloons)
	What do you think of these?

James takes another chug from his jug, nods.

				JAMES LEER 
	Nice.

51	EXT. GASKELL HOUSE - MORNING 

Grady, squinting through the ten-inch panel of cleared 
ice on the windshield, roils slowly up onto the curb in 
front of Walter and Sara Gaskell's house ...then off.

52	INT. GALAXIE - CONTINUOUS  

GRADY pops the glovebox, takes out a PEN, and scratches 
something on the GIFT CARD attached to the BALLOON. James 
glances briefly at a plump ZIPLOC OF POT stashed in the 
glovebox, then peers at the house.

				JAMES LEER 
		(the house) 
	Isn't this...?

				GRADY
	Hm.

GRADY gets out, then pauses, glancing at the giant orange 
juice jug between James legs. It's about half-down.

				GRADY
	You better ease off that stuff, James. It's 
	pretty acidic.

James takes a powdered donut that lies on his coat, 
studies it curiously.

				JAMES LEER
	I can't help myself. I don't know what's the 
	matter with me.

				GRADY
	Shit, James, you're hungover. What do you 
	think's the matter with you?

As GRADY turns away, James ponders this, then considers 
the ring of white sugar imprinted on his coat and re-sets 
the donut in precisely the same place.

53	INT. GREENHOUSE - MOMENT LATER

Through the steamy panes, we SEE GRADY approach with the 
balloon, enter. He crosses to a high table, sets the 
balloon down, and steps back, considering the placement.

				SARA O.S.) 
	Feeling guilty?

GRADY jumps--startled--and turns. Sara has materialized 
behind a ficus, large POTTING GLOVES on her hands.

				SARA (cont'd) 
	I can't believe you hung up on me, you dick.

				GRADY
	Totally.  I'm sorry. A lot was happening this 
	morning. Can you talk?

Sara nods, moves the ficus to another table.

				SARA
	Walter's on campus, being the good soldier for 
	WordFest. But he's a basket case. Someone stole 
	Marilyn's jacket last night. And Poe's missing, 
	too.

				GRADY
	I-heard.

				SARA 
	You heard? How?

				GRADY
	A twelve-year-old policeman came by the house 
	this morning.

				SARA 
	Did you confess?

GRADY looks up, mildly alarmed.

				SARA
	Your fingerprints were all over the bedroom.

				GRADY 
	Really? That was fast.

				SARA 
		(frowning)
	I'm kidding. Hello?

				GRADY
	Oh. Right. Ha. Listen, about last night. There 
	is something I need to tell...

				SARA
	Are you limping? Why are you limping?

				GRADY
	Hub? Oh, well, that's part of what I need to . 
	. .

				SARA
	Did you pass out again, Grady? Did you fall 
	somewhere?

				GRADY
	No. I mean. Well, actually, yes. Sort of. I 
	don't remember. Listen, Sara, I have to tell 
	you something.

				SARA 
	All right.

Sara settles back, folds her arms. Waiting.

				GRADY
	I...

As GRADY stares into Sara's eyes, things begin to blur. 

				GRADY (cont'd)
	 ...want to be with you.

Sara looks at him.

				SARA
	Gee, Grady, that sounded so heartfelt.  I 
	don't know whether to swoon or smirk.

				GRADY
	Really, Sara, I...

Sara holds up one gloved hand.

				SARA
	I believe you. I believe you want to be with 
	me. But this is not just about me anymore.

				GRADY
	I know that. I know what's at stake here...

				SARA
	No, I don't think you do. And besides... I 
	haven't decided yet.

				GRADY
	About the baby.

				SARA 
	That ...and you.

GRADY goes still, watches Sara strip off the gloves, drop 
them on  a table.

				SARA
	I'm not going to draw the map for you on this 
	one, Grady. Times like these you have to do 
	your own navigating.

Sara turns to leave, then stops, squinting far down the 
street.

				SARA
	Who's that sitting in your car?

				GRADY
	James Leer.

				SARA 
	What's he doing out there?

				GRADY
	I'm sort of helping him work through some 
	issues.

Sara raises an eyebrow, then pushes through the door.

				SARA 
	Isn't he lucky.

GRADY watches her ripple across the glass, head for the 
house, and wave. James, slumped low in the Galaxie, offers 
a limp hand in return, but it's too late.

She's already gone.

54	INT. GALAXIE - MOVING - LATER 54

GRADY cradles the wheel in his bandaged paw, while James 
sits stiffly, the orange juice jug bobbing between his 
thighs.

				JAMES LEER
	She seemed to take it pretty well.

				GRADY
	Yeah, well, actually. . .

James looks over.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
	The moment didn't really present itself.

James nods, unsurprised, then turns back to the window, 
staring at the landscape, still sitting oddly still. GRADY 
glances at him. At the orange juice jug.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	You' re not planning on puking in my car, are 
	you, James?

Nothing.

				GRADY
	Don't be proud, James. We're in Sewickley 
	Heights. We could find you a nice golf course 
	to barf on.

				JAMES LEER 
		(sharply) 
	No.

GRADY looks over, surprised by the James' tone. James 
blinks, looks embarrassed.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd) 
	I mean. I'm fine. I'm sorry. I just...

James peers out the window at passing landscape.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd)
	I've got a thing about, ..places like this. I 
	know what those houses are like. I know what 
	the people are like.

				GRADY
	Your aunt ?

James turns, eyes flashing with surprise.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	Hannah mentioned something about an aunt.

James nods vaguely, then reaches into the ashtray, takes 
a JOINT between his fingers, sniffs it.

				JAMES LEER 
	Humboldt County?

				GRADY
		(surprised)
	Maybe...

				JAMES LEER
	It's my father. He gets it from his doctor.

				GRADY
	Glaucoma?

				JAMES LEER 
	Colon cancer.

				GRADY
	Jesus, James. Wow.

James puts the joint back in the ashtray.

				JAMES' LEER
	It's a bit of a scandal. My parents live in a 
	small town.

				GRADY
	Where's that?

				JAMES LEER
	Carvel.

				GRADY
	Carvel? Where's Carvel?

				JAMES LEER 
	Outside Scranton.

				GRADY
	I never heard of it.

				JAMES LEER
	It's a hellhole. Three motels and a mannequin 
	factory. My dad worked there for thirty-five 
	years.

				GRADY
	Your father worked in a mannequin factory?

				JAMES LEER
	Seitz Plastics. That's where he met my morn. 
	She was a fry cook in the cafeteria. Before 
	that, she'd been a dancer.

				GRADY
	What kind of dancer? .

				JAMES LEER
	Whatever kind they wanted her to be.

				GRADY 
		(in disbelief)
	James Leer, are you telling me your mother was 
	a stripper?

				JAMES LEER
	I'm telling you what I was told by my uncle. 
	And he should know. He ran half a dozen men's 
	clubs in Baltimore before he skipped town on a 
	bad debt.

				GRADY
	Didn't you say your Mom went to Catholic 
	school?

				JAMES LEER 
	When we fall, we fall hard.

				GRADY
	Amazing.

GRADY takes the joint from the ashtray, lights it, then 
notices-with surprise--James has his hand out.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
	I thought you were the guy who didn't like to 
	lose control of his emotions.

				JAMES LEER
	Maybe I just needed the moment to present 
	itself.

55	EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD (KINSHIP) - DAY .(ONE HOUR LATER)

GRADY glides down the graceful, tree-lined streets of a 
modest, but well-kept neighborhood. James still has the 
JOINT-now only a tiny nub-pinched between his fingers.

				JAMES LEER
	This is so nice. It's like where Andy Hardy 
	would live. What's it called again?

				GRADY
	Kinship.

				JAMES LEER
	Kinship. And what's here?

				GRADY
	Unless I miss my bet...my wife.

James' heavy eyelids flutter with surprise.

				JAMES LEER 
	The one that left you?

				GRADY
	That's right. That one.

56	EXT. FRONT PORCH - WINTERS FAMILY HOUSE

GRADY RAPS on the front door, then cups his hands against 
the glass of the living room window, squints inside. 
Nothing. As he turns away, GRADY sees James sitting on the 
hood of the Galaxie with the box of powdered donuts. He's 
sitting in the indentation.


				JAMES LEER
	Someone jumped on your car with their butt ..-

				GRADY
	How can you tell?

				JAMES LEER
	You can see the outline of a butt.

As GRADY nods, James holds out the donut box.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd)
	Want one. They're incredible. Incredible.

				GRADY
	Smoke the rest of that joint, James, and you 
	can start on the box.

58	EXT. BACK PORCH - BACK YARD (MOMENTS LATER)

As GRADY steps onto the back porch, James follows.

				JAMES LEER
	Maybe she didn't come here.

				GRADY
	She came here. We'll just wait. In the 
	meantime, I need you to shimmy through.

James stares at the "Doggy Door" cut into the back porch 
door.

				GRADY
	Relax. Emily hasn't carried a house key since 
	she was twelve years old. And your hips are as 
	slim as hers.

				JAMES LEER
	It's not that. It just reminded me of-- you 
	know-of what's in the car. In the trunk.

				GRADY
		(a pang of guilt himself)
	Oh. Right. Well, let's try not to think about 
	that.

James takes another sad glance at the little door, then 
drops onto ail fours.

59	INT. LIVING ROOM - WINTERS HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER     

GRADY leads James through the house. Everything about it 
speaks of family. Even the furniture seems arranged so that 
people will gather together, light a fire, talk.

				JAMES LEER 
	It feels really... good. ..here.

				GRADY
	I know. It's the house you want to wake up in 
	on Christmas morning.
		(moving off)
	Make yourself at home. I'll be right back.

60	INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM 60

Grady, laboring badly on his ankle", enters and finds a 
DUFFEL BAG open on the floor, its contents a tangle of 
quickly-packed clothes. Everything else in the room feels 
of another time. PHOTOGRAPHS are everywhere, documenting a 
PRETTY GIRL'S life, from first recital to cap and gown.

One photograph lies face down. GRADY turns it over and 
finds the pretty girl grown into a beautiful young woman, 
standing in a white gown next to a younger Grady--on their 
wedding day.

61	INT. DEN     

James enters, FRENCH ROLL in hand, and sees a REMOTE 
CONTROL atop the BAR. Taking it, he points it at the WIDE- 
SCREEN TELEVISION imbedded in the opposite wall and, 
seconds later, GEORGE SANDERS walks into his CLOSE-UP.

				GEORGE SANDERS
	There's no such thing as a good influence, Mr. 
	Gray. All influence is immoral...

62	INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM - SAME TIME  

Grady, a PINK PRINCESS PHONE to his ear, lies on the bed 
next to a huge TEDDY BEAR.

				GRADY
		(into phone)
	Yes, I' m looking for the Chancellor... I 
	don't know. She should be in the main hall 
	...Thank you.

63	INT. DEN     

James runs through the channels, pauses on MARTIN MILNER 
and GEORGE MAHARIS, riding in their curvy Corvette.

64	INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM - SAME TIME   

A Nelson Riddle's THEME FROM ROUTE 66 BOOMS from below, 
GRADY
cups a hand over his ear.

				GRADY
	Sara? Hi. It's Grady.

				SARA'S VOICE
	Where are you, Grady? An elevator?

				GRADY
	I'm in Kinship. Listen, Sara, there's some 
	things we need to talk about...

				SARA'S VOICE
		(evenly)
	You're in Kinship?

				GRADY
	Yes. But that's not why I called...

				SARA'S VOICE
	With Emily?

				GRADY
	What? No'. There's no one here. I'm just 
	...just....

				SARA'S VOICE
	Just what? Doing a little dusting?

As GRADY endeavors to respond, TWO YOUTHFUL VOICES, 
CHEERFULLY SINGING, rise from below.

				CHEERFUL VOICES       
	Good Morning! Good Morning!

				GRADY
		(yelling)
	James! For Christ sake, will you turn that 
	thing down!

				SARA'S VOICE
	James? He's still with you?

65	INT. DEN 

James, in the midst of pouring himself a tumbler of 
Bushmills, smiles as JUDY GARLAND and MICKEY ROONEY sing 
their hearts out in Babes In Arms.

				JUDY/MICKEY
	We talked the whole night through!

66	INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM 

GRADY shakes his head, carries the phone toward the 
bedroom WINDOW.

				GRADY
	Look, Sara. ..I'm not here. ..I'm not here to 
	. . .

As GRADY watches, a late-model PONTIAC BONNEVIlLE turns 
into the driveway below him.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	 ...reconcile with Emily.

				SARA'S VOICE
	Are you there to not reconcile with her?

The Bonneville's trunk pops open, revealing THREE BAGS OF 
GROCERIES, and HANK and IRENE WINTERS, both in their 60's, 
get out. An enormous NEWFOUNDLAND vaults from the backseat.

Sara, eating phone static this whole time, interprets 
Grady's silence her own way.

				SARA'S VOICE (cont'd) 
	Goodbye, Grady.

				GRADY
	No. Sara, you don't understand...

				SARA'S VOICE
	Trust me, I understand. I just want to say 
	something to you, Grady.

				GRADY
		(dreading it) 
	Yea?

				SARA'S VOICE
	How you choose to live your own life is your 
	business. But you be careful with that boy, 
	Grady. With James. He belongs to somebody else.

As the line goes dead, GRADY watches Hank and Irene 
Winters disappear below him.

69	INT. DEN       69

James--Irish whiskey in one hand, the pride of Humboldt 
County in the other--watches with deep absorption as Judy 
and Mickey have a heartfelt conversation. Then, sensing 
something ...he turns.

Hank and Irene Winters, grocery bags in arm, stand 
frozen.

				JAMES LEER     
	Hullo.

FOOTSTEPS are HEARD on the staircase and GRADY hobbies 
into view. He tries a smile.

				GRADY
	Mom. Dad.

70	INT. DEN - WINTERS HOUSE - (A BIT LATER) 

Hank Winters emerges from the bathroom with a roll of 
tape, a bottle of alcohol, and some cotton wool.

				HANK
	Well, it's infected, I can tell you that. I'm 
	just going to clean it up a bit. It's up to you 
	to-find someone who knows what they're doing. 
	Here. Put your foot up.

GRADY puts his foot up on Hank's lazy-Boy, then notices a 
BOOK lying face down on the seat. The AUTHOR on the back 
cover looks as if he's trying very hard to look 
consequential. To his surprise, GRADY realizes the author 
is himself.

				HANK
	So he's one of your students, this boy?

GRADY glances into the living room, where James and Irene 
sit on a long couch together, sipping something hot. James 
is looking out the window, a curious expression on his 
face. GRADY looks out his own window, sees the Newfoundland 
sniffing curiously at-the Galaxie's trunk. When he glances 
back into the living room, he and James make brief eye 
contact, then blink, look away.

				GRADY
	Yes. He's a good kid. Maybe a little messed 
	up.

				HANK
	Well, I'm sure with the proper guidance he'll 
	be fine.

GRADY tries to read Hank's face---is he messing with 
him?--but Hank gives nothing away. GRADY nods to the book.

				GRADY
	What made you pull out that old thing?

				HANK
		(shrugging)
	I was thinking of you.

				GRADY
	And?

				HANK
	It's no Arsonist's Daughter, but I guess you 
	know that. It's a young man's book. It got me 
	remembering how it felt to be young.

				GRADY
	Maybe I should read it.

				HANK
	Oh, I don't think there's any danger of you 
	aging prematurely, Grady.

GRADY doesn't have to read Hank's face this time.

				GRADY
	Where's Emily, Hank?

				HANK
	I 'don't know if she'd want me  to tell you 
	that, Grady.

				GRADY
	I'm not going to stalk her. Hank. I just. 
	..want to know where I stand.

Hank looks up, incredulous.

				HANK
	Where you stand?

				GRADY
		(embarrassed)
	l-just want to say I'm sorry.

				HANK
	She's in Philadelphia seeing Linda Aahby. The 
	neurologist.

				GRADY
	Neurologist? Why? What's wrong?

				HANK
		(frowning)
	Nothing's wrong. They went to Wellesley 
	together.

				GRADY
		(sheepishly)
	Oh. Right. Linda ...I haven't been doing a lot 
	of sleeping lately. My editor's in town and I 
	have the book to finish and--

				HANK
	Ah, right. The book.

GRADY starts to continue, then stops, cowed by something 
in Hank's tone, something dismissive. Instead, he looks 
away, toward the living room, and catches sight of James 
again, sitting alone now with his big cup of cocoa.

				GRADY
	Listen, Hank, I'm sorry about ail this. I 
	didn't come here to upset you and Irene. I want 
	you to know that.

				HANK
	Why did you come here, Grady?

GRADY gestures vaguely.

				GRADY
	I -just wanted to see her, I guess-- Emily. 
	And to see you too-you and Irene. And to let 
	everyone know that, even though it may be 
	difficult to comprehend now, this-everything 
	that's happening-it's not forever. It doesn't 
	mean "Goodbye."

				HANK
	Give me a break, Grady.

Hank snaps off the tape, slaps Grady's ankle.

				HANK
	You're done.

71	INT. GALAXIE - MOVING - DUSK   71

GRADY glowers darkly at the road, then puts his hand up 
against the HEATING VENT which, apparently, is not putting 
out any heat.

				JAMES LEER
	I'm having a really good time, Professor 
	Tripp.

GRADY glances over, sees James burrowing into the Ziploc.

				GRADY
	I'm really happy for you, James. But do me a 
	favor, will you? Lay off my dope. That stuff's 
	not for amateurs.

James looks at Ziploc as GRADY fiddles with the heat 
LEVER.

				JAMES LEER 
	I just wanted a little sip.

				GRADY
		(squinting at him)
	I just wanted a little sip? Tell me, James, 
	exactly what point was it that you turned into 
	Serpent Boy?

				JAMES LEER
	Probably about the time you gave me the 
	codeine pills last night.

GRADY stops with the heater, glances over at James, whose 
face bears not the slightest trace of irony.

				GRADY
	Jesus... 
		(thinking, then. . . )
	Look, James, you appear to possess-like many 
	an aspiring writer before you, by the way-a 
	rather ardent affinity for the stuff of which 
	dreams are made. However, I 'think it's best 
	if, for the moment at least
		(taking the Ziploc)
		...we abstain.

				JAMES LEER 
	You're mad at me, aren't you?

				GRADY
	What?

				JAMES LEER
	You're mad because I shot your girlfriend's 
	dog.

				GRADY
	It wasn't her dog. It's her husband's--
		(stopping)
	Who said anything about girlfriend?

James eyes shift slowly, as if to 'say: Who are you 
kidding?

				GRADY
	Okay, James, I wish you hadn't shot my 
	girlfriend's dog. Even though Poe and I weren't 
	exactly what you'd call simpatico, that's no 
	reason for him to take two in the chest. Still, 
	the fact remains that I'm the one who took you 
	up into the Chancellor's bedroom. I'm the one 
	who has to take the blame. I- don't know what 
	the hell I was thinking.

				JAMES LEER
	Sure you do. You were thinking: 'That's no cap 
	gun in that kid's overcoat.' You were thinking 
	'I can't let that kid get on. the bus alone-he 
	might never get on the bus again.' You were 
	thinking: 'I've got to find a way to distract 
	this kid. ' So you did. It was--in its way--a 
	noble act.

				GRADY
	Thanks for the halo, James, but I've . never 
	done that much thinking ahead in my" life-ever.

James looks -out the window, pondering this.

				JAMES LEER
	So, why did you take me up there?

				GRADY
		(feeling for the heat again)
	I -don' t know, James . I don' t know why I do 
	half the things I do. Who does?
		(looking over)
	Why do you wear that coat?

James looks down, a little defensive.

				JAMES LEER 
	It's warm.

				GRADY
	James, fall semester, first day of class, it 
	was 95 degrees and you were wearing the coat.

James just blinks, no ready answer-available.

				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 fuck 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.

72	EXT. 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.

74	EXT. 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.

75	INT. 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.

76	EXT. 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?

77	INT. BOOTH - COFFEE SHOP77 

James is glowering at the parking lot as GRADY returns.

				JAMES LEER
	I'm not going with them..

				GRADY
	James. Listen. Things-things are a little 
	weird with me right now and I-- well--I have 
	enough blame to shoulder these days without 
	having to take the blame if something bad 
	happened to you. And if you hang around me long 
	enough, something bad is going to happen, trust 
	me. That's why I need you to go home. 
	Understand?

				JAMES LEER 
	I'm not going, with them.

				GRADY
	James, like it or not, they're your parents.

				JAMES LEER
	Parents? They're not my parents. They're my 
	grandparents. My parents are dead.

GRADY stares at-James wearily.

				JAMES LEER
	I swear. My father had his own airplane he 
	used to fly up to Quebec. One Christmas, he and 
	my mom were flying up to our house in the 
	Laurentians when the plane went down. It was in 
	the newspaper.

GRADY doesn't flinch, unpersuaded.

				JAMES LEER
	I 'swear. My father was a senior vice 
	president at Dravo. My mother was a socialite. 
	Her maiden name was Guggenheim.

GRADY starts to protest, then pauses.

				GRADY
	I remember that. Five or six years ago.

				JAMES LEER
	Six. Their plane went down right outside 
	Scranton.

				GRADY 
		(sardonically) 
	Near Carvel?

				JAMES LEER
	I'm sorry about all that. I just-I don't like 
	to talk about my family. They treat me like a 
	freak. 
		(nodding towards Amanda)

She makes me sleep in. the basement of my own house. It's 
mine. My parents left it to me.

GRADY glances toward the parking lot, studies the  
contours of Fred Leer's face. Frowns.

				GRADY
	James, come on. That man is obviously your 
	father. You look just like him.

James looks down at the table, takes a deep breath, and 
speaks in a voice heavy with implication.

				JAMES LEER
	There's a reason for that.

Grady's addled brain grapples with this dark little 
riddle, finally deciphers what James is suggesting.

				GRADY
	Get out of here.

				JAMES LEER
	That's why she hates me. That's why she makes 
	me sleep in the basement.

				GRADY
	In the crawl space, with the rats and the 
	casks of Amontillado. Come on. Up.

As GRADY lifts him from the booth, James attempts a 
plaintive tone, but his heart's not in it.

				JAMES LEER 
	I swear.

78	EXT. COFFEE SHOP - MOMENTS LATER       78

As Fred Leer SLAMS the back door of the Mercedes, GRADY 
waves vaguely, peers into the darkness of the back seat.

				FRED LEER 
	Thank you. Professor Tripp.

				GRADY
	Take care of him.

				AMANDA LEER
	Oh, don't worry. We'll take care of him. You 
	can be sure of that.

Fred Leer hits the gas and swings the Mercedes around in 
a tight little arc, feathering Grady's pants--from the knee 
down--with a pudding of ICE and MUD. GRADY glances down at 
his spattered self, then notices, sitting on the front 
passenger seat, James' knapsack. GRADY grabs it, turns.

				GRADY
	Hey!

GRADY'S POV - REAR WINDOW
as the Mercedes begins to pull away and James turns, 
elbows on the back dash, his pale face slack. Spying Grady, 
he raises one limp hand, and then-as if it were held by a 
string-lets it drop.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
		(softly) 
	Hey.

79	EXT. PARKING LOT - MQTEL/COFFEE SHOP - A. BIT LATER   

GRADY sits in-the GREEN GLOW of .the radio dial, smoking 
a joint. He glances at the knapsack, sees James' 
MANUSCRIPT:

The Love Parade

He reaches in, takes the manuscript and, in the light 
that rains from the PARKING LAMP overhead, begins to read.

80	EXT. GRADY'S HOUSE - NIGHT (LATER)      80

Grady's HOUSE looks like a three-dollar whore on a block 
full of nuns. MUSIC BLARES, LIGHT BLAZES from every window, 
and there are so many CARS GRADY is forced to leave the 
Galaxie in the middle of the street.


				GRADY
		(knowingly) 
	Crabtree.

81	INT. GRADY'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER  

Times Square before the ball drops. GRADY enters, scans 
the room, then shoulders his way to the stairs.

82	INT. GRADY'S OFFICE  

Hannah Green sits on the sofa, twisting a long strand of 
hair around her finger as she reads a THICK MANUSCRIPT.

				GRADY
		(entering) 
	Hey.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Grady!

She slaps the page she is reading back onto the stack at 
her thigh. GRADY
stares. The manuscript. It's his.

				HANNAH GREEN
		(embarrassed)
	I know I shouldn't have, but there it was, 
	just sort of lying out, and I couldn't resist 
	and-and--I suck.

				GRADY
	No, it's okay. I just can't believe I left it 
	out in the open like that. CRABTREE hasn't been 
	in here, has he? Poking around?

				HANNAH GREEN
	I don't know--maybe- I don't think so.

Grady's  mind races with unfortunate possibilities, but 
only briefly: his immediate thoughts are elsewhere.

				GRADY
	Listen, Hannah. You don't remember where that 
	aunt worked, do you? James' aunt.

				HANNAH GREEN
	He shot the Chancellor's dog, didn't he? The 
	blind one.

				GRADY
	Actually, He's not the Chancellor' s--What?

				HANNAH GREEN
	At first the police thought he just ran away, 
	but this afternoon Dr. Gaskell found some blood 
	spots on the carpet -

				GRADY
	Jesus.

				HANNAH GREEN
	CRABTREE said it sounded like something James 
	would be messed up in.

				GRADY
	Crabtree? He doesn't even know James.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Who does?

Just then, Crabtree's VOICE bellows in the hallway 
outside.

				CRABTREE (O.S.) 
	Trip?! Where are you'

GRADY looks anxiously toward the door.

				GRADY
	The aunt, Hannah. Where did you take James 
	that day?

				HANNAH GREEN
	I told you, Sewickly Heights.      

				GRADY
	But where? I need the street.

				HANNAH GREEN
	I don't know, Grady. I just dropped him on a 
	corner. 

				CRABTREE (O.S.)
	Trip?!

				GRADY
	Shit.

As GRADY starts to turn away, Hannah hooks her finger 
inside his belt buckle.

				HANNAH GREEN
	No! Don't go. I've been waiting ail night for 
	you.

GRADY looks at Hannah's hand, where it rests. He looks 
terrified.

				GRADY
	Listen, Hannah, I'm flattered, really, but 
	right now I--

				CRABTREE
		(bursting in)
	Tripp, where the hell. . .

CRABTREE stops, takes in the tableau before him.

				CRABTREE (cont'd)
	Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting a. student-
	teacher conference?

GRADY delicately removes Hannah's hand from his buckle, 
points at Crabtree.

				GRADY
	You stay there.

				CRABTREE
	What? Ohhhh. Is that... it?

CRABTREE cocks his head toward the reams of paper stacked 
on Grady's desk.

				CRABTREE
	Honestly, Tripp. Do you actually think I would 
	sneak in here and read your book without asking 
	you?

				GRADY
	Gee, I don't know. Crabs. I don't seem to 
	remember you actually asking me if you could 
	invite 200 people over to trash my living room.

				CRABTREE
	Sometimes we have to improvise.

				GRADY
		(ignoring him)
	Think, Hannah. Does James have any friends. I 
	mean, besides you and. ..me?

				CRABTREE
	James? My James? What's happened?

				GRADY
	Nothing, he's just been sort of, I don't 
	know.. .kidnapped.

				CRABTREE
	Kidnapped? By who?

				GRADY
	His parents.

				CRABTREE
	Good God. Let's go rescue him.

				GRADY
	Good idea. Crabs. Only one problem. I don't 
	know where they live.

				CRABTREE
	Ah. Wait a minute. The university must know 
	where he lives.

				GRADY
	It's a little late to call Admissions.

				CRABTREE
	Is it a little late to call the Chancellor?

				GRADY
	Maybe ...I don't know.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Two-sixty-two Baxter Drive.

GRADY and CRABTREE turn, see Hannah sitting on the corner 
of Grady's desk with the WHITE PAGES open on her lap.

				HANNAH GREEN (cont'd)
	They're in the book.

83	INT. GALAXIE - MOVING - TEN MINUTES LATER

CRABTREE snaps James' manuscript closed.

				CRABTREE
	You know--based on what I've read-- this is a 
	very exciting piece of material, this Big 
	Parade.

				GRADY
	Love. It's Love facade--and what do you mean 
	'based on what you've read'? You skimmed two 
	chapters at 80 miles an hour while gargling 
	methamphetamines.

				CRABTREE
	I've been doing this a long time, Tripp. I 
	feel this kid in my bones.

				GRADY
	Only in your bones?

GRADY smirks, glances at Crabtree, but gets a surprise; 
CRABTREE offers no snappy come-back, no antic wordplay. He 
just stares out the window, his voice distant.

				CRABTREE
	No. I think I might be right. I've felt it 
	before...

As Crabtree's voice trails off, GRADY studies him.

				GRADY
	How bad is it for you?

				CRABTREE
	Bad enough. And God knows I don't exactly fit 
	the new corporate profile.

				GRADY
	Which is?

				CRABTREE
	Competence.

GRADY and CRABTREE look at each other a moment, then 
CRABTREE smiles, gives a little shrug, and picks up James' 
knapsack, rummaging through the contents.

				CRABTREE (cont'd) 
	So tell me about you and the Chancellor.

				GRADY
	What's to tell?

				CRABTREE
	Plenty, I'm sure. But, for what it's worth...

CRABTREE fishes out the biography of Erroll Flynn, gives 
it a look.

				CRABTREE
	...I like her.

GRADY peers at the stars, his voice barely audible.

				GRADY
	Me too.

84	EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - SEWICKLEY HEIGHTS     84-

The battered Galaxie floats up a narrow road, gliding 
through a canyon of mansion walls and the occasional 
winding drive. Up ahead a stone post marker with the 
numerals "262." GRADY kills the headlights.

				GRADY
	This is it.

84A	EXT. LEER HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER

Grady--limping like an aging prizefighter--leads CRABTREE 
up a steep incline toward an enormous three-story house. 
The Leer's Mercedes gleams in the shadows.

				CRABTREE
	Jesus. There must be two dozen windows on . 
	that thing. How are we-supposed to find his?

				GRADY
	I told you. They keep him chained in the 
	basement. Come on.

85	EXT. REAR - LEER HOUSE

LIGHT GLOWS from a low BASEMENT WINDOW. From one side, a 
WOMAN is HEARD SINGING. GRADY and CRABTREE pause, listen.

				WOMAN SINGING 
	Why should I care though he gave me the air? 
	Why should I cry, heave a sigh, and wonder why? 
	And wonder why?

				CRABTREE
	Doris Day.

CRABTREE and GRADY look at each other.

				GRADY/CRABTREE
	James Leer.

GRADY moves to the window and RAPS on the glass. A moment 
later, James peeks out. Seeing Grady, his face brightens 
briefly, unguarded, then quickly resumes its usual Leerian 
aspect. He motions with his hand, as if to say, "That way."

86	EXT. BASEMENT DOOR    

The DOOR swings open to reveal James Leer, decked out in 
a pair of RED, INK-STAINED PAJAMAS sagging badly in the 
seat. He looks like one of Santa's elves.

				JAMES LEER
	Hey. What are you guys doing here?

				CRABTREE
	We're springing you. Leer. Get some pants on.

As they step inside, GRADY gives James' PJs the once-
over.

				GRADY
	I can't believe you made fun of my robe.

87	INT. JAMES' ROOM - BASEMENT    87

Electric CANDELABRAS light a large converted cellar whose 
walls are crowded with MOVIE POSTERS and LOBBY CARDS. There 
are STACKS of what look suspiciously like LIBRARY BOOKS and 
an enormous BAROQUE BED, complete with CANOPY.

				CRABTREE
	I like what you've done with it. When's 
	Captain Nemo moving in?

				JAMES LEER 
	The candelabras were my Gran's.

				GRADY
	Oh, Christ, don't start on ol' Gran or we'll 
	leave you here.

				CRABTREE
	Hey, I heard all about it--the parents, the 
	grandparents, the China town thing-- and I 
	believe you, okay? That's why we're here. Now 
	go get dressed.

James scoops up the shirt GRADY lent him. this morning.

				JAMES LEER
	Can I--I mean--do you mind--if I wear this 
	again. Professor Tripp?

				GRADY
	Ah, wear whatever you want.

James flinches, stung, then disappears into a bathroom.

				CRABTREE
	So modest.

				GRADY
	So sensitive.

				CRABTREE
		(nosing around the room)
	Oh, come on, Tripp. Cut the kid some slack.

				GRADY
	It's just ail that crap he spins out. Just 
	once I'd like to know if the little bastard is 
	telling the truth.

				CRABTREE
	The-truth. I know that's always been real 
	important to you. Key, check this out...

CRABTREE leans over an old ROYAL TYPEWRITER, reads from 
the freshly-typed PAGE curling from the carriage.

				CRABTREE
	Finally, the door opened. It-was a shock to: 
	see him, shuffling into the room like an aging 
	prizefighter. Limping. Beaten.'
		(with an amused smile) 
	Sound like anyone we know?
		(resuming) 
	But it was later, when the great man squinted 
	into the bitter glow or twilight...
		(frowning)
	Bitter glow of twilight? This kid definitely 
	needs an editor.
		(resuming)
...and muttered simply, "It means nothing. All of it. 
Nothing," that the true shock came. It was then that the 
boy understood that his hero's true injuries lay hidden in 
a darker place. His heart...'

CRABTREE stops abruptly.

				GRADY
	Yes? 'His heart...'

CRABTREE hesitates, then... reads on:

				CRABTREE
	'His heart, once capable of inspiring others 
	so completely, could no longer inspire so much 
	as itself. It beat now only out of habit. It 
	beat now only because it could. '

GRADY nods, his face unreadable, then James returns.

				JAMES LEER 
	I'm ready...

James stops, sees the two men looking at him.

				JAMES LEER 
	You all right, Professor Tripp?

				CRABTREE
	He's great. Come on, let's blow before ol' 
	Gran decides to boil your bones for breakfast.

				JAMES LEER
	Oh, well, that's just it. She's been coming 
	down here, every half hour or so, to, sort of, 
	check on me. If I'm not here, she might ...call 
	the police or.. .something.

				CRABTREE
	Hhhuh. So we decoy her. Stick a couple pillows 
	and one of your teddy bears under the spread 
	and she won't know the difference.

				JAMES LEER 
		(brightening)
	Yeah. Like in Against All Flags. Only they use 
	a couple big hams.

				GRADY
	No.

CRABTREE and James turn.

				GRADY
	I've got something better than a teddy bear.

CUT TO: POE -- as he's lowered delicately onto James' 
bed. 

88	INT. JAMES' ROOM - BASEMENT (A FEW MINUTES LATER) 

GRADY strategically arranges the coverlet, gently 
adjusting Poe's head so only a TUFT of FUR shows. He steps 
back, joining CRABTREE and James for an assessment.

				GRADY
	Sweet dreams, Jimmy.

89	EXT. GRADY'S HOUSE - LATER 

The lights are still blazing, the front door is wide 
open, but not a soul remains.

90	INT. LIVING ROOM

A quiet disaster, the only sound an LP playing meekly on 
the STEREO. James passes through first, ignoring the 
TORTILLA CHIPS POPPING under his shoes, then CRABTREE and 
GRADY appear.

				CRABTREE
	Things must've picked up after we left.

CRABTREE pats Grady's cheek, heads upstairs. 

91	INT. HALLWAY

Crabtree's door is closing as GRADY hobbles into view.

				GRADY
	Crabtree.

				CRABTREE
		(sticking his head out) 
	Ye-es?

GRADY looks down, sees James Leer's black brogues sitting 
on the floor outside Crabtree's door.

				GRADY
	Nothing.

The door closes, the LATCH CLICKS, and GRADY is left 
alone, the bossa nova floating softly in the air.

92	INT. 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.

93	INT. 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 fucked 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 shit about the 
	university stealing my money and you being a 
	pseudo-Faulknerian nobody.

94	EXT. 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.

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

A CAR rattles down the street, NEWSPAPERS pinwheeling 
from-the window.

96	INT. 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.

97	EXT. 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.

98	INT. 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 fucking 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.

James stops, considers this piece of news with a look of 
deep seriousness, then nods.

				JAMES LEER 
	Thank you.

				CRABTREE
	You're welcome.

As James shuffles off into the hail, CRABTREE looks at 
Grady, his eyes dancing with excitement.


				CRABTREE
	I want to publish this.  I've got to.  I think 
	they'll let me.  With a little editorial 
	guidance it could be brilliant. 

				GRADY
	Great. Between you and Officer Pupcik out 
	there he can be the next Jean Genet. It's been 
	awhile since somebody wrote a good book in 
	jail.

99	EXT. GRADY'S HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER

Sara and GRADY stand by as Pete Pupcik deposits James in 
the back of the squad car, SLAMS the door.

PUPCIK
As I told the Chancellor, Professor, I'm. just going to 
run James here over to the university. It'll be up to Dr. 
Gaskell where we go from there.

GRADY nods, leans in the window to James.

				GRADY
	Don't worry, James, I'll figure something out.

				JAMES LEER
	I'm not worried. You're not worried, are you. 
	Professor Tripp?

				GRADY
	I'm a little worried, James.

				JAMES LEER 
	Don't be. I don't care if they expel me. I 
	probably should be expelled.

				GRADY
	Well, let's see if we can keep that from 
	happening.

James nods and GRADY starts to step back from the car.

				JAMES LEER
	Professor Tripp...?

				GRADY
	Yes, James.

				JAMES LEER
	Even if I end up going to jail....

James smiles his crooked grin.

				JAMES LEER (cont'd)
	You're still the best teacher I ever had.

On this,  Pete Pupcik pulls away, leaving GRADY standing 
on the curb, watching the back of James' head, framed in 
the rear  window of the police car, growing smaller.

				SARA
	This is not what the university has in mind 
	when it promises a liberal education, Grady.

				GRADY
	Would Walter really press charges?

				SARA
	It's within the realm. He takes his souvenirs 
	pretty seriously. And he was just a wee bit 
	prickly this morning.

Grady, detecting something in Sara's tone, turns, watches 
her take a drag on her cigarette.

				SARA (cont'd) 
	You didn't happen to call the house last 
	night, did you, Grady?

				GRADY
	I think I might have.

				SARA
	And what do you think you might have said?

				GRADY
	I think I might've said I was in love with 
	you.

Sara's face remains .unchanged.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
	He told you.

				SARA 
	He told me.

				GRADY
	And what did you say?

				SARA
	I said it didn't sound like you. 

Sara tosses her cigarette in .the gutter, gets into her 
car, and dives away.  GRADY looks after her sadly, then 
turns, sees CRABTREE standing on the porch wearing a shirt 
which claims "Ativan Chases the Clouds Away."

				CRABTREE
	So- what do we do now? ,

				GRADY
	Find the jacket.

				CRABTREE
	Oh' huh. Exactly how do we do that?

				GRADY
	First I see if Hannah will let me borrow her 
	car.

				CRABTREE
	It seems to me that girl would let you borrow 
	her pancreas.

100	INT. HANNAH'S ROOM   - 100

Hannah, wrapped loosely in cotton sheets, SMILES as she 
listens to the Goatee Kid, who sits cross-legged at the 
foot of-her bed, fully clothed.

				GOATEE KID
	I'm telling you, the tango is ail about latent 
	homosexual love. Look at the way they dance--
	it's sodomy.

				HANNAH GREEN
		(laughing) 
	Stop it.

Hannah looks up, sees GRADY in the doorway and blushes. 
She pulls the sheet up, gives an oddly formal wave.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Grady. Hi. What's up?

Jeff eases off the bed, past GRADY uneasily.

				GOATEE KID
	I'll be ...somewhere else.

				GRADY
	Hey, Jeff. If you're really interested in 
	discussing that business with the tango, try 
	the guy at the end of the hall.

Jeff nods--puzzled--then goes. GRADY smirks.

				GRADY
	He cribbed that from Borges.

				HANNAH GREEN
	It beats 'What's your major?'

GRADY nods, detecting a new aloofness in her voice.

				GRADY
	Right. Anyway, I was wondering if I could 
	borrow your car. Mine's sort of out of 
	commission.

				HANNAH GREEN
	Sure. The keys are on the dresser next to. 
	..to your book.

The hitch in Hannah's voice hangs in the room like a 
cloud.

				HANNAH GREEN
	I uh, I didn't finish, I ...fell asleep.

				GRADY
	That good, hub?

				HANNAH GREEN
	No, it's not that, it's...

Hannah glances at the huge stack of paper sitting on her 
dresser, then, hesitantly, looks back to Grady.

				HANNAH GREEN
	It's just that, you know, I was thinking about 
	how, in class, you're always telling us '-that 
	writers make choices--at least the good ones. 
	And, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying the 
	book isn't really great-I mean, really great-
	but at times it's, well, very detailed, you 
	know, with the genealogies of everyone's horses 
	and ail the dental records and so on-and I 
	don't know, maybe I'm wrong, but it sort of 
	reads, in places, like, well, actually, like... 
		(with trepidation)
...you didn't make any choices at all. And I was 
wondering if it might not be different if, maybe, when you 
wrote, you weren't always ...under the influence.

				GRADY
		(stung)
	Hh huh. Well, thanks for the thought, but, as 
	shocking as this may sound, I'm not the first 
	writer to sip a little weed. And furthermore, 
	it might interest you to know that one book I 
	wrote, as you say, 'under the influence, ' 
	happened to win a little something called the 
	PEN award which, by the way, I accepted 'under 
	the influence. '

Hannah nods, averts her eyes, and immediately GRADY feels 
ridiculous. He starts to say something, but instead gathers 
his manuscript and exits.

101	INT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER   

Crabtree, dressed now, studies the freight 'in Grady's 
arms as he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

				CRABTREE
	Want some help with that?

				GRADY
		(passing by)
	Don't touch it.

102	INT. HANNAH'S RENAULT - MOVING  

CRABTREE sucks on a Kool, driving Hannah's rattling 
Renault too fast, shifting gears apparently at random. 
GRADY rides shotgun, still wearing the robe over his 
clothes, the Wonder Boys manuscript sitting like a 
watermelon on his lap-looking, all in all, fairly pathetic.

				CRABTREE
	Let me get this straight. Jerry Nathan owes 
	you money. So, as collateral, he gives you his 
	car.

				GRADY
	Only now I'm starting to think the car wasn't 
	exactly Jerry's to give.

				CRABTREE
	So whose car is it?

				GRADY
	My guess-Vernon Hardapple.

				CRABTREE
	The hood jumper?

				GRADY
	He said a few things that lead me to believe 
	the car's his.

				CRABTREE
	Such as.

				GRADY
	'That's my car, motherfucker.'

				CRABTREE
	Hh hub. So. We find Vernon, we find the car. 
	We find the car...

				GRADY
	...we find the jacket.

				CRABTREE
	There's only one problem, Tripp. We don't know 
	his real name. We just made it up. In fact, we 
	made the whole guy up.

				GRADY
	No wonder he screwed us over.

CUT TO:

BILL MAZEROSKI legendary Pittsburgh Pirate second 
baseman, large as a Macy's Day float, his weathered image 
scaling three floors on the BRICK face of a RIVERFRONT 
STOREFRONT.

103	INT. HANNAH'S CAR

CRABTREE takes a corner recklessly, immediately slows, 
and blinks in amazement.

				CRABTREE
	Christ, Tripp. How did you know?

				GRADY
	Call it a hunch.

Parked in front of KRAVNIK'S SPORTING GOODS is the white 
van. A few feet behind, the battered Galaxie.

				CRABTREE
	I'd call it genius.

GRADY steps out, strips off the robe, and drops the lumpy 
leviathan that is his manuscript on the front seat.

				GRADY
	It's good to know I'm still talented at 
	something. Keep the motor running.

104	EXT./	INT. GALAXIE    104

GRADY peers into the backseat, squinting against the WIND 
that swirls around him. Errol Flynn's face leers back at 
him. But no jacket. GRADY slides in, pops the glove box, 
and frowns at the ZIPLOC of Humboldt County. He pockets it 
anyway, then spies something else.

James Leer's little PEARL-HANDLED PISTOL.

GRADY takes it, rotates it-in his palm. SUNLIGHT GLINTS 
off the chrome barrel and everything slowly turns to a 
SWEET, SOFT BLUR...

105	INT. HANNAH'S RENAULT 

CRABTREE stomps on his Kool. GRADY looks very much like a 
man who has pulled off the road to take a nap.

				CRABTREE
	What the hell...

106	INT. GALAXIE

As GRADY lolls behind the steering wheel, a CLOUD 
appears, hovering, then slowly mutates, and GRADY realizes 
it's not a cloud at all, it's

MARILYN MONROE standing by the side mirror, wearing a 
bright pink dress under her wedding jacket.

				MARILYN 
	I know you. . .

Marilyn's face swims before Grady's eyes, but there's 
something wrong with it. This girl's eyes are brown and 
besides, she's ...fat.

				MARILYN (cont'd) 
	Double Dickel on the rocks.

The last of the fairy dust evaporates and GRADY finds- 
standing before him in a pink jersey dress and Marilyn 
Monroe's wedding jacket--0ola, the pregnant waitress from 
the Hi-Hat Club.

				GRADY
	Oola.

				OOLA 
	I never forget a drink.

				GRADY
	I never forget an Oola.

Suddenly, there is a HEAVY CLICK.

				MAN'S VOICE (0.S.) 
	Forget me?

GRADY starts to turn, but his head won't  move: largely 
because the BARREL of a GERMAN NINE is pressed to his 
temple. Grady's eyes slide.

				GRADY
	Vernon.

				VERNON
		(to Oola)
	Move away, cupcake.  He's got a gun.

				GRADY
	Who's got a gun?

				VERNON 
	You've got a gun, motherfucker. Drop it!

				GRADY
	Relax, Vernon...

				OOLA 
	Why's he calling you Vernon?

				VERNON
	Why's he sitting in my car? He's crazy, that's 
	why. He probably calls everybody Vernon.

				GRADY
	Not true. You're the only Vernon I know. 
	Actually, I'm wrong. I once knew a Vernon 
	Peabody at Penguin U.K.

				VERNON 
	Shut up. 
		(to Oola)
	Cupcake. Please. Inside.

				OOLA 
	You' re not going to shoot him, are you?

				VERNON
	I'm going to shoot him. If he doesn't put that 
	gun down.

				GRADY
	It's just a souvenir. They don't even make the 
	caps anymore.

				VERNON
	Bullshit. I know a gun when I see one. And 
	that's a gun.

				GRADY
	No, really....

GRADY lifts his arm, points the little pearl-handled 
pistol to the DARK CLOUDS overhead.

107	INT. HANNAH'S RENAULT

CRABTREE jumps as the tiny pistol at the end of Grady's 
arm FLASHES, makes a FEEBLE POP in the wind.

				CRABTREE
	Holy shit.

108	EXT. KRAVNIKS 

Vernon stands half-hunched, stunned.

				VERNON 
	Are you crazy!

The gunshot seems to have cleared Grady's head. He stares 
at the gun, watches Vernon wrest it from his hand.

				VERNON (cont'd)
	Get out! What's the matter with you? Can't you 
	see the condition my girl's in?

As GRADY gets out of the car, Vernon places his hand on 
Oola's tummy.

				VERNON 
	You all right, cupcake?

				OOLA 
	Who's Vernon?

A rude SQUEAL breaks the silence--rubber scratching 
asphalt--and Grady, Oola, and Vernon turn to see Hannah 
Green's rattling Renault lurching awkwardly toward them.

				VERNON 
	What the...?

Gears GRINDING, tires smoking, CRABTREE fish-tails 
wildly, then kicks open the passenger door.

				CRABTREE
	Tripp! Run!

GRADY doesn't move an inch, watching in mute amazement as 
CRABTREE whistles by, proceeds halfway down the block, then 
turns back for another pass.

				VERNON
	Who the hell is that?

				GRADY
	A Manhattan book editor murdering a Mormon 
	girl's clutch.

The car bucks crazily, picks up speed, and Crabtree-- 
swiping aside a flutter of MANUSCRIPT PAGES that have taken 
flight inside the car--begins to veer right toward Grady, 
Vernon, and Oola.

				VERNON 
	Woah.

Vernon steps into the street, levels the German Nine.

				VERNON (cont'd) 
	Pull off, you crazy motherfucker!

Frantic, GRADY steps between Vernon, the German Nine, and 
the oncoming Crabtree.

				GRADY
	No! Don't shoot! He's just a lousy driver.

CRABTREE fans the wheel wildly, goes into a slide and the 
passenger door snaps wide, releasing what looks to be a 
FLOCK OF WHITE DOVES into the wind-whipped sky.

Only, these ain't birds.  • - ^

				GRADY
	Oh... my... God! 

These are PAGES. Seven years of-pages.

CRABTREE goes into another slide, one-hops the curb, and 
smashes flat into the weathered GLOVE of BILL MAZEROSKI 
painted on the front wail of KRAVNIK'S SPORTING GOODS.

As Hannah Green's RADIATOR EXPLODES, CRABTREE steps free 
of the car and looks skyward. It's a ticker-tape parade ail 
the way down the street, ending in the frigid waters of the 
Ohio River. 

				GRADY (cont'd)
		(to Vernon)
	I take it back.  Shoot him. 

109	INT. GALAXIE - MOVING

Vernon drives, Oola at his side. In-the back, CRABTREE 
puffs philosophically on a Kool while GRADY sits grimly 
with the sad remains of his manuscript: SEVEN RUMPLED 
PAGES, one of which bears the watermark of a shoe print.

				CRABTREE
	Naturally you have copies.

				GRADY
	I have an alternate version of the first 
	chapter. 

				CRABTREE
	You'll be all right then.  Look at Carlyle, 
	when he lost his luggage.

				GRADY
	That was MacCaulay.

				CRABTREE
	Or Hemingway, when Hadley lost all those 
	stories.

				GRADY
	He was never able to reproduce them.

				CRABTREE
	Bad examples. Look, Tripp, I don't want to 
	depreciate the loss here, but perhaps--in a 
	sense- this--
		(nodding to the pages)
	is for the best.

Grady's eyes shift, study Crabtree.

				GRADY
	Kind of a sign, you're saying.

				CRABTREE
	In a sense.

				GRADY
	I don't think so. In my experience, signs are 
	usually a lot more subtle.

				VERNON
	Let me get this straight. All that paper that 
	went into the river. That was the only copy?

				GRADY
	'Fraid so.

				VERNON
		(glowering at Crabtree)
	And you're saying it's some kind of sign? What 
	the fuck's the matter with you?

				CRABTREE
	I'm just saying that sometimes, 
	subconsciously, a person will put themselves in 
	a situation-perhaps even create that situation-
	in order to have an arena in which to work out
	an unresolved issue. It's a covert way, if you 
	will, of addressing a problem.

Vernon stares at CRABTREE as if he's from another planet.

				VERNON
	I'll tell you the problem. You behind the 
	wheel. There's your fucking problem.

				CRABTREE
	That's pretty simplistic, don't you think?

				VERNON
	Hey, pal, you don't start doing crazy eights 
	in the middle of the street none of this 
	happens.

				CRABTREE
	Excuse me. Did you, or did you not, have a gun 
	to his head?

				VERNON
	He was trying to steal my car!

				GRADY
	Ail right, all right It's done. There's no 
	need to talk about it. It's done.

They ride in silence for a moment, then Oola turns, 
glances at GRADY
and his little sheaf of pages.

				OOLA 
	So what was it about? 
		(as GRADY looks up)
	Your book.  What was the story?

GRADY stares into Oola's sweet, brown eyes.

				GRADY
	I don't know...

Oola's brow wrinkles. CRABTREE glances at his old friend, 
genuine compassion in his eyes.

				CRABTREE
	What he means is, it's difficult to distill 
	the essence of a book sometimes. It-lives in 
	the mind.

				VERNON
	Yeah, but you gotta know what it's about, 
	right? I mean, if you didn't know what it was 
	about, why were you writing it?

				GRADY
	I couldn't stop.

110	EXT. CAMPUS ENTRANCE

Grady, James Leer's hollow knapsack in hand, stands with 
CRABTREE at the campus entrance as Vernon and Oola prepare 
to leave in the Galaxie.


				GRADY
	Hey, Vernon. Can I ask you a question?

				VERNON 
	Shoot.

GRADY glances at little round Oola.

				GRADY
	Boy or girl?

				VERNON
	As long as it looks like her, I don't care. 
	You know what I'm saying?

GRADY watches Vernon give Oola a kiss on the forehead.

				GRADY
	Right. Well, thanks. For the lift.

				VERNON
	No sweat. Only do me a favor?

				GRADY
	Sure.

				VERNON 
	Stop calling me Vernon.

CRABTREE leans into Grady, WHISPERS.

				CRABTREE
	The jacket, Tripp. We need the jacket.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	Oh, right. Oola. About that jacket...

				OOLA 
	Yea?

GRADY looks at the waitress in her pink jersey dress, 
snuggled up in the silk wedding jacket.

				GRADY
	It used to belong to Marilyn Monroe. She had 
	small shoulders, like you. Most people don't 
	know that.

As Oola smiles, pleased, Vernon shakes his head.

				VERNON
	Man, that book of yours must've been one nutty 
	motherfucking ride.

Vernon points an imaginary gun, fires a friendly cap into 
Grady, and pulls away. CRABTREE stands stunned.

				CRABTREE
	You mind explaining what you just did?

GRADY watches the shrinking Galaxie sail under a drooping 
NORDFEST BANNER, lost in thought.

				GRADY
	Came to my senses. CRABTREE

	Ah. Well. Congratulations. Meanwhile, what is 
	James supposed to do? Pray for Walter Gaskell 
	to come to his?

				GRADY
	Walter Gaskell isn't going to send James Leer 
	to jail, Crabs. I know that.

				CRABTREE
	Do you know he won't expel him?

				GRADY
	No. But I don't think that matters.

				CRABTREE
	That's very enlightened, Professor. It's 
	comforting to know that America's children have 
	you for a teacher.

GRADY blinks, ponders this briefly, then looks toward the 
buildings of the campus, his VOICE still distant.

				GRADY
	Nobody teaches a writer anything. You tell 
	them what you know. You tell them to find their 
	voice and stick with it, because that's all you 
	have in the end. You tell the ones who have it 
	to keep at it and you tell the ones who don't 
	to keep at it, too. Because that's the only way 
	to get where you're going. 
		(ruefully) 
	Of course, it helps if you know where you want 
	to go. 
		(thoughtfully)
	Maybe that's the only thing--that and Sara--
	that's made the last seven years worthwhile.

GRADY slides James' knapsack off his shoulder, smiles 
cryptically as he considers it. -

				GRADY (cont'd)
	As for James, he doesn't need me anymore...

Without warning, GRADY tosses CRABTREE the knapsack.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	He's got you.

CRABTREE stares at the saggy green canvas in his hands, 
watches GRADY walk away.

				CRABTREE
	Me? What can I do?

				GRADY
	Gee, I don't know, Crabs...
		(over his shoulder)
	Improvise. You're good at that.

GRADY continues on, leaving CRABTREE to stand alone, as 
he walks toward the buildings in the distance.

				CRABTREE
	I'm sorry, Tripp.

GRADY stops, turns.

				GRADY
	You peeked, didn't you?

				CRABTREE
	I peeked. 

GRADY considers this. Nods. It-doesn't seem to matter 
anymore

				CRABTREE
	It really had the makings, Tripp. There was a 
	lot to admire. I've ...never read anything 
	quite like it.

If there was a Kentucky Derby for editorial bullshit, 
Crabtree's last three utterances would finish win, place, 
and show. And GRADY knows it.

				GRADY
	You're not just trying to make me feel better?

CRABTREE looks directly at Grady, his old friend.

				CRABTREE
	Scout's honor.

CRABTREE and GRADY stare into each other's eyes. Both are 
acutely aware of the subtext of this conversation.

				GRADY
	Well, thanks for that, Crabs.

111	INT. HALLWAY - ENGLISH DEPARTMENT 

Dead quiet. Gradually, STEPS are heard, coming from the 
stairwell, then GRADY limps into view.

112	INT. GRADY'S CLASSROOM - MOMENTS LATER

GRADY surveys the room. Empty chairs. Empty desks.

He walks to a WINDOW, the same window he stood at two 
afternoons ago when reading James Leer's story. A chill 
breeze pitches the fabric of his shirt as he studies the 
barren benches and icy walkways of the quad. Finally, he-. 
turns away, settles behind his desk and, reaching into his 
pocket, removes the seven remaining pages of his 
manuscript. He considers them, then folds them in half 
length-wise. He continues, folding the top right corner 
down into a triangle along the first crease...

113	EXT. QUAD  

A moment. Then-from the third floor window-a PAPER 
AIRPLANE glides into view, soaring then dropping, soaring 
then dropping, again and again, graceful as a dove.

114	INT. LOBBY - THAW HALL - LATER

GRADY hobbles into the lobby just as one of the 
auditorium doors swings open. APPLAUSE SWELLS and he spies 
Sara standing inside, talking to a STUDENT USHER.

				GRADY
	Sara!

Sara turns ...as the door glides shut. As GRADY hustles 
forward, Q, wine glass in hand, intercepts him.

				Q
	Grady. I have to tell you. I took another look 
	at Arsonist's Daughter the other night. There's 
	a description of a bald cypress that left' me 
	breathless.

				GRADY
		(pushing past him)
	Thanks, Q. I felt the same way about the bank 
	teller's breasts in your last one.

115	INT. BACK ROW - AUDITORIUM - THAW HALL

GRADY enters, but Sara is ...gone. He picks his way 
behind the back row, scanning the aisles.

				GIRL'S VOICS 
	Hey, Professor Tripp.

It's Carrie McWhirty, James' tormentor from workshop. 
GRADY takes another look around, then drops into the seat- 
next to her.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY
	If you're looking for Hannah, she's on the 
	aisle.

				GRADY
	No...

But GRADY looks anyway. Hannah sits a dozen rows down the 
aisle, hair pulled back in a clip, glorious skin gloaming. 
The Goatee Kid sits close beside her.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY
	Who's that guy she's with? Didn't he used to 
	be in workshop?

				GRADY
	Jeff. He comes from a long line of tango 
	dancers.

116	INT. MAIN STAGE

Walter turns over the last page of-his prepared notes.

				WALTER
	And now, as those of you who've been with us 
	in previous years know, we have a tradition of 
	sorts here at WordFest. I'm speaking, of 
	course, of The Plums.

An anticipatory BUZZ sweeps through the audience as 
Walter begins to read from a separate list.

				WALTER
	This weekend, Susan Lowery, of North Braddock, 
	found a publisher for her children's book. The 
	Loneliest Prawn, Susan, stand up.

117	INT. BACK ROW - THAW HALL^

As a CHUBBY WOMAN stands to acknowledge the applause, 
GRADY cranes his neck, searching the sea of seats. To his 
surprise, he finds CRABTREE sitting prominently in the 
front row, in his shirtsleeves, smiling his spookily 
complacent smile. James is next to him, now wearing 
CRABTREE'S METALLIC SPORTS COAT over Grady's flannel shirt.

				WALTER
	And Robert Wilkenson--who many of you know for 
	his City Beat column in the Post-Gazette--has 
	found a home with Putnam for his new Three 
	Rivers thriller. Blood Patterns. Robert.

A SHORT, BALDING MAN stands briefly then Walter's VOICE 
takes a shift in tone.

				WALTER
	Now, this next one, I think, is especially 
	exciting to announce, because it concerns a 
	student here at the university. Our own James 
	Leer, a sophomore in English literature, has 
	found a publisher for his first novel, which I 
	believe is called The Lovely Parade.

GRADY blinks, leans forward, and watches Walter smile 
warmly toward the front row. CRABTREE gives James a jab in 
the ribs and slowly, awkwardly, James rises. Stunned, 
Carrie McWhirty turns to the GIRL next to her.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY 
	I have a class with him.

James hangs-like a scarecrow from a nail, waiting as the 
APPLAUSE slows, then sputters, then dies out altogether.

				CARRIE MCWHIRTY
	The guy's kind of an alien probe, if you know 
	what I mean.

Grady, in a last attempt to save James from himself, cups 
Hi his hands around his mouth.

				GRADY
	Take a bow, James!

James turns, spots GRADY in the back row, then-a sheepish 
grin on his face--spreads his arms, hangs his head, and 
takes his first sweet public bow.

				GRADY (cont'd) 
		(softly)
	Wonder Boy.

				WALTER
	And finally--and perhaps not least 
	importantly--Terry Crabtree, of Bartizan, has 
	also decided to publish my own book--a critical 
	exploration of the union of Marilyn Monroe and 
	Joe DiMaggio and its function in American 
	mythopoetics-which, tentatively, I've entitled 
	The Last American Marriage.     "

Wild, obsequious APPLAUSE. GRADY smiles cynically, 
watches Walter take a brief, dignified bow of his own.     
. :

				WALTER 
	Until next year. Thank you, everyone.

The LIGHTS come up. As the auditorium empties, CRABTREE 
shakes Walter's hand and Jeff and his goatee escort Hannah 
Green down the aisle, where she drapes her lovely arms 
around James.

GRADY watches them ail, sitting alone in his row, when 
suddenly Sara appears over James' shoulder. She says 
something congratulatory, turns, and exits out a side door. 
GRADY blinks, scrambles up.

118	INT. CORRIDOR - THAW HALL - MOMENTS LATER

GRADY bursts into the corridor.'

				GRADY
	Sara!

Its empty. Quiet. GRADY pauses. Somewhere, a HEAVY METAL 
DOOR CLOSES. GRADY rushes on.

119	INT. NEW CORRIDOR

Grady, limping badly, turns a corner and sees a DOOR. He 
moves to it, pushes past...

120	INT. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

...and finds himself standing in a stairwell. He leans 
out over the railing, peers down. It's a steep drop, very. 
steep, ending in a small rectangular space, a kind of 
basement office, with VENDING MACHINES, PLASTIC CHAIRS, and 
a COLLAPSIBLE CARD TABLE.

GRADY turns back to the door he came through, pushes 
against it. Locked. He sighs, looks back at the stairs, his 
ailing ankle, then sits. He fishes out the Ziploc of- 
marijuana, considers the perfectly roiled JOINT floating 
atop the bag of buds, but, for once, isn't up to it. The 
SOUND of FOOTSTEPS echoes far below and, hopeful they're 
Sara's, GRADY pulls himself up, peers over the railing.

It's Traxler, with a broom, a big plastic bag.

				GRADY
	Yo, Traxler.

				TRAXLER 
		(looking up)
	Hey, Professor Tripp.

GRADY considers the Ziploc in his hand, looks down again.

				GRADY
	Do you get high, Sam?

				TRAXLER
	Only when I'm working.

GRADY hangs-over the railing and lets fly the Ziploc.  It 
pinwheels through the vortex of stairs, lands at Sam's 
feet.

				TRAXLER 
	Holy shit. Are you serious?

				GRADY
	As a heart attack.

				TRAXLER
	Thanks-Whoa, Professor Tripp, careful ^here...

GRADY is still hanging over the railing-but looking dizzy 
now. His eyelids flutter and he tips forward-a Steinway on 
a window ledge-and as he starts to drop...

...there is a SHARP JERK on his- COLLAR, a SHIRT BUTTON 
caroms off his cheek, and slowly, he is hauled back.

				SARA
	Grady, what are you doing, you idiot?

GRADY looks up into Sara's freckled face.

				GRADY
	Looking for you.

He wants to say more, he opens his mouth, but then... ALL 
GOES BLACK AS SARA'S VOICE CALLS...

faintly at first, then more forcefully, calling Grady's 
name, calling so insistently that the earth seems to RUSH 
upward until we see that she is...

KISSING him or something, and all goes softly... Blue.

121	INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

GRADY lies in a powder blue paper gown surrounded by blue 
plastic curtains in a blue room. Through a gap in the 
curtains, he can see the bottle of-GLUCOSE that drips 
slowly into his arm, and beyond, a window. Flakes of SNOW 
fall outside.

The DOOR SQUEALS, a SHADOW ripples across the blue, then 
the curtains part and a RESIDENT with a clipboard appears. 
His NAMETAG says GREENHUT.

				GRADY
	I passed out.

				GREENHUT
	You did.

				GRADY
	I've been doing that a lot lately.

				GREENHUT
	So I hear. You've also been smoking a lot of 
	marijuana, I understand.

				GRADY
	Do you think that's why I've been having 
	these...
		(grabbing James' term)
	 ... spells?

				GREENHUT
	How long have you been having them?

				GRADY
	The last month maybe.

				GREENHUT
	How long have you been smoking marijuana?

				GRADY
	Spiro T. Agnew was vice president, I believe.

				GREENHUT
	That's probably not the problem, then. What 
	about your lifestyle. Any major changes 
	recently?

				GRADY
	I've been trying to finish a book...

				GREENHUT
	And your wife left you.

				GRADY
	Is that in my chart?

				GREENHUT
	I spoke with the woman who saved your life. 
	You're lucky she came along when she did.

GRADY considers the larger ramifications of this 
statement

				GRADY
	I know.

				GREENHUT
		(tapping the glucose bottle)
	You need to see a doctor, Mr. Tripp. An 
	internist. And I think you really ought to 
	consider seeing a therapist, as well.

				GRADY
	She told you about. . .

				GREENHUT
	Her dog, yes.

				GRADY
	Actually, it was her husband's dog...

Greenhut glances up, looking GRADY in the eyes for the 
first time, and GRADY
stops.

				GREENHUT
	Look, Mr. Tripp. You have a drug problem, all 
	right? On top of that, you have a bite on your 
	ankle that is severely infected. We pumped you 
	with antibiotics so you'll be fine, but another 
	day or two and you might have lost the foot. As 
	for your spells. I'm guessing they're a result 
	of the anxiety you've been experiencing lately.

				GRADY
	They're anxiety attacks? That's a little 
	disappointing.

				GREENHUT
	Better luck next time.

				GRADY
	So is my friend...is Sara still here?

				GREENHUT
	No. There's no one here.

				GRADY
	I have to see her. As soon as possible.

Greenhut studies Grady, calibrating the desperation in 
his eyes, then takes a quick glance at his watch.

				GREENHUT
	Look, Mr. Tripp. If you really want to leave, 
	I can't stop you. But I'm going to write you a 
	prescription for a course of ampicillin and I 
	want you to follow it to the end-no matter how 
	stupid you decide to be with everything else. 
	All right?

122	INT. HOSPITAL/BRIDGE WALKWAY - AFTERNOON

GRADY sits in a WHEELCHAIR, watching the snow fail around 
him as a NURSE escorts him through the tunnel of glass that 
connects one building to another.

				GRADY
	I wonder if you could show me something. 

123	EXT. NURSERY - HOSPITAL - MOMENTS LATER

GRADY stares through the glass. There are only TWO BABIES 
on display, heads dented from natural delivery, skin purple 
and crazy with veins.

				GRADY
	Are these the only ones you have?

The nurse's eyes crinkle.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	Kidding... 

124	EXT. GASKELL HOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON

GRADY pays a TAXI CAB DRIVER, then turns,     looks at 
the Gaskell house.

125	EXT. FRONT DOOR - MOMENT LATER

GRADY KNOCKS. Nothing. Peers into the living room window.  
Dark.  He stands helplessly, then spies the greenhouse, 
standing ghostly across the yard, feathers of snow drifting 
onto its roof, melting.

126	EXT. GREENHOUSE - MOMENT LATER12S

GRADY hobbles to the greenhouse, puts both hands to the 
glass as he looks inside. Quiet. Empty. Dispirited, he 
pulls away, but not before leaving...

...the IMPRINTS of his hands, perfectly etched in the 
frost of the glass.

127	EXT. STREET  127

The snow continues to fall as GRADY lumbers down the 
street. Finally, wearily, he stops, sits his crippled self 
on the curb. He plunges his fist into his jacket and. 
..straight through the lining, James Leer's silly little 
pistol at the end of his hand. He considers the pistol, 
then looks up into the sky.

GRADY'S POV - of the SKY... 

...dark and menacing. Suddenly, a THUNDERCLAP shatters 
the silence.

NEW ANGLE - GRADY ...still sitting with the gun in his 
hand.

				GRADY
		(as if addressing God) 
	Is that a suggestion?

GRADY sits, blinking the snow out of his eyes, then TWO 
SHAFTS of-LIGHT dance across his shoes. A white Citroen 
DS23 appears.  It passes.  Slows.  Stops. 

GRADY stares at the car, burbling at the curb, then lifts 
himself up and makes his way to the driver's window. Sara 
makes a face, bugging her eyes a little-mad at him, but- 
not without humor. Then she rolls down the window.

				GRADY
	I'm so glad to see you, Sara.

				SARA
	I believe you. Did that nice doctor let you 
	out? Or-is this you improvising again, Grady?

				GRADY
	I'm through improvising. 

				SARA
	Terry told me about Wonder Boys. Is  it true? 
	Did you lose it all?

				GRADY
	I lost it ail.

				SARA
	Oh, Grady. You're such a putz.

				GRADY
	I know.

				SARA 
	And you're old.

Sara strokes his scalp, takes a gray hair between her 
fingers. Yanks.

				GRADY
	Ouch. How many?

				SARA 
	Dozens. It's very sad.

Sara smiles at Grady, but the mischief leaves her eyes 
when she looks into his, and-she glances away.

				GRADY
	I went and looked at-some babies just now.

				SARA
	Oh?

				GRADY
		(trying to make her laugh)
	I guess you have to go on faith.

				SARA
		(she doesn't)
	Some times...

GRADY studies her as she traces her finger around the 
HOSPITAL BRACELET still encircling his wrist.

				GRADY
	Did you tell Walter?

				SARA
	I told Walter. 

				GRADY
	Does he still love you?

				SARA
	It didn't come up. 

GRADY studies Sara's freckled cheeks, her anxious 
profile, then turns her chin gently toward him.

				GRADY
	Well I do. I've always loved you, Sara. I 
	didn't know it at the time, but I'd always been 
	waiting for you. My whole life. Because you're 
	who I need. Because nothing makes sense without 
	you. Because the best moment of every day is 
	the moment I first see your face. And because 
	when you leave a room, there's no reason to be 
	in it any more. It's just a room again.

Sara cocks her head.

				SARA 
	Did you just make that up?

				GRADY
		(shaking his head)
	In the hospital. I "was kind of excited about 
	it at-the time, but then I was on pretty heavy 
	painkillers.

She frowns good-naturedly. 

				GRADY (cont'd)
	Even so...it's still true. Every word.

Sara just nods, looks away, her face unreadable.

				GRADY (cont'd)
	Sara, I promise, even though commonsense might 
	tell you...

Sara turns, puts a finger on GRADY's lips...

				SARA 
	Don't write a page when a paragraph will do.

GRADY nods, takes her hand. Looks at it as he speaks.

				GRADY
	You don't deserve me, you know.

				SARA
	I know, but sometimes... 

Sara turns, looks at Grady. Her eyes are glistening. 

				SARA (cont'd) 
	You just go on faith.

GRADY looks into her eyes, then rises, and we do too, 
drifting above the streetlights as GRADY limps to the other 
side of the car and gets in. As GRADY snaps shut his door, 
the car drifts off, gradually losing itself in- the soft 
veil of falling snow. After a moment, GRADY and Sara are 
lost too, nothing more than a blur.


THE END 
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