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At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

demanded

How many times the word 'demanded' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

comforted

How many times the word 'comforted' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

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At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

office

How many times the word 'office' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

departure

How many times the word 'departure' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

amused

How many times the word 'amused' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

captivate

How many times the word 'captivate' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

dreaming

How many times the word 'dreaming' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

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At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

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At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

handkerchiefs

How many times the word 'handkerchiefs' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

few

How many times the word 'few' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

years

How many times the word 'years' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

anxiously

How many times the word 'anxiously' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

desire

How many times the word 'desire' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

chairs

How many times the word 'chairs' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

garb

How many times the word 'garb' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

irene

How many times the word 'irene' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

doubly

How many times the word 'doubly' appears in the text?

At such times the gentleness of Elizabeth, her almost passionate desire to be loved and fondled, completely transformed her for the moment. Louise, shrewd at reading others, told herself that Beth possessed a reserve force of tenderness, amiability and fond devotion that would render her adorable if she ever allowed those qualities full expression. But she did not tell Beth that. The girl was so accustomed to despise herself and so suspicious of any creditable impulses that at times unexpectedly obtruded themselves, that she would have dismissed such a suggestion as arrant flattery, and Louise was clever enough not to wish to arouse her cousin to a full consciousness of her own possibilities. The trained if not native indifference of this strange girl of fifteen was demonstrated by her reception of Uncle John's telegram. She quietly handed it to her mother and said, as calmly as if it were an invitation to a church picnic: "I think I shall go." "Nothing like that ever happened to me," remarked Mrs. De Graf, enviously. "If John Merrick had an atom of common sense he'd have taken me to Europe instead of a troop of stupid school girls. But John always was a fool, and always will be. When will you start, Beth?" "To-morrow morning. There's nothing to keep me. I'll go to Patsy and stay with her until we sail." "Are you glad?" asked her mother, looking into the expressionless face half curiously. "Yes," returned Beth, as if considering her reply; "a change is always interesting, and I have never travelled except to visit Aunt Jane at Elmhurst. So I think I am pleased to go to Europe." Mrs. De Graf sighed. There was little in common between mother and daughter; but that, to a grave extent, was the woman's fault. She had never tried to understand her child's complex nature, and somewhat resented Beth's youth and good looks, which she considered contrasted unfavorably with her own deepening wrinkles and graying hair. For Mrs. De Graf was vain and self-important, and still thought herself attractive and even girlish. It would really be a relief to have Beth out of the way for a few months. The girl packed her own trunk and arranged for it to be taken to the station. In the morning she entered the music room to bid the Professor good-bye. He frowned at the interruption, for the oratorio was especially engrossing at the time. Mrs. De Graf kissed her daughter lightly upon the lips and said in a perfunctory way that she hoped Beth would have a good time. The girl had no thought of resenting the lack of affection displayed by her parents. It was what she had always been accustomed to, and she had no reason to expect anything different. Patsy met her at the train in New York and embraced her rapturously. Patsy was really fond of Beth; but it was her nature to be fond of everyone, and her cousin, escaping from her smacking and enthusiastic kisses, told herself that Patsy would have embraced a cat with the same spontaneous ecstacy. That was not strictly true, but there was nothing half hearted or halfway about Miss Doyle. If she loved you, there would never be an occasion for you to doubt the fact. It was Patsy's way. Uncle John also was cordial in his greetings. He was very proud of his pretty niece, and discerning enough to realize there was a broad strata of womanliness somewhere in Elizabeth's undemonstrative character. He had promised himself to "dig it out" some day, and perhaps the European trip would give him his opportunity. Patsy and Elizabeth shopped for the next few days most strenuously and delightfully. Sometimes their dainty cousin Louise joined them, and the three girls canvassed gravely their requirements for a trip that was as new to them as a flight to the moon. Naturally, they bought much that was unnecessary and forgot many things that would have been useful. You have to go twice to Europe to know what to take along. Louise needed less than the others, for her wardrobe was more extensive and she already possessed all that a young girl could possibly make use of. This niece, the eldest of Uncle John's trio, was vastly more experienced in the ways of the world than the others, although as a traveller she had no advantage of them. Urged thereto by her worldly mother, she led a sort of trivial, butterfly existence, and her character was decidedly superficial to any close observer. Indeed, her very suavity and sweetness of manner was assumed, because it was so much more comfortable and effective to be agreeable than otherwise. She was now past seventeen years of age, tall and well formed, with a delicate and attractive face which, without being beautiful, was considered pleasant and winning. Her eyes were good, though a bit too shrewd, and her light brown hair was fluffy as spun silk. Graceful of carriage, gracious of manner, yet affecting a languor unsuited to her years, Louise Merrick was a girl calculated to draw from the passing throng glances of admiration and approval, and to convey the impression of good breeding and feminine cleverness. All this, however, was outward. Neither Patsy nor Beth displayed any undue affection for their cousin, although all of the girls exhibited a fair amount of cousinly friendship for one another. They had once been thrown together under trying circumstances, when various qualities of temperament not altogether admirable were liable to assert themselves. Those events were too recent to be already forgotten, yet the girls were generous enough to be considerate of each others' failings, and had resolved to entertain no sentiment other than good will on the eve of their departure for such a charming outing as Uncle John had planned for them. Mr. Merrick being a man, saw nothing radically wrong in the dispositions of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age. At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John "corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the "Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their affectionate but ill-advised friends. Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind on the spur of the moment. Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions. The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to "walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all. Having made up his mind to let the child go to Europe, the old fellow allowed no wails or bemoanings to reach Patsy's ears to deprive her of a moment's joyful anticipation of the delights in store for her. He laughed and joked perpetually during that last day, and promised the girl that he would take a vacation while she was gone and visit his old colonel in Virginia, which she knew was the rarest pleasure he could enjoy. And now he stood upon the deck amusing them all with his quaint sayings and appearing so outwardly jolly and unaffected that only Patsy herself suspected the deep grief that was gripping his kindly old heart. Uncle John guessed, perhaps, for he hugged the Major in a tight embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his eye and the subject of his most loving care. "An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy, impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way, an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour, an'--" "It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my life." "Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly. You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!" "All ashore!" called a loud voice. The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her, and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs. Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. CHAPTER IV SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately apparent. His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon; the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of maid could wish for. At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said nothing. Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication, especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it. It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president, you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror, John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on. Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are proven to have been well founded, I can arouse Louise to a proper spirit and induce her to throw the fellow over. Meantime, I implore you, as my daughter's temporary guardian, not to allow Louise to speak of or dwell upon this young man, but try to interest her in other gentlemen whom you may meet and lead her to forget, if possible, her miserable entanglement. Consider a loving mother's feelings, John. Try to help me in this emergency, and I shall be forever deeply grateful." "It's from mother, isn't it?" asked Louise, when he had finished reading the letter. "Yes," he answered gruffly, as he crumpled the missive and stuffed it into his pocket. "What does she say, Uncle?" "Nothing but rubbish and nonsense. Eat your soup, my dear; it's getting cold." The girl's sweet, low laughter sounded very pleasant, and served to calm his irritation. From her demure yet amused expression Uncle John guessed that Louise knew the tenor of her mother's letter as well as if she had read it over his shoulder, and it comforted him that she could take the matter so lightly. Perhaps the poor child was not so deeply in love as her mother had declared. He was greatly annoyed at the confidence Mrs. Merrick had seen fit to repose in him, and felt she had no right to burden him with any knowledge of such an absurd condition of affairs just as he was starting for a holiday. Whatever might be the truth of the girl's "entanglement,"--and he judged that it was not all conveyed in Martha Merrick's subtle letter--Louise would surely be free and unhampered by either love or maternal diplomacy for some time to come. When she returned home her mother might conduct the affair to suit herself. He would have nothing to do with it in any way. As soon as luncheon was finished they rushed for the deck, and you may imagine that chubby little Uncle John, with his rosy, smiling face and kindly eyes, surrounded by three eager and attractive girls of from fifteen to seventeen years of age, was a sight to compel the attention of every passenger aboard the ship. It was found easy to make the acquaintance of the interesting group, and many took advantage of that fact; for Uncle John chatted brightly with every man and Patsy required no excuse of a formal introduction to confide to every woman that John Merrick was taking his three nieces to Europe to "see the sights and have the time of their lives." Many of the business men knew well the millionaire's name, and accorded him great respect because he was so enormously wealthy and successful. But the little man was so genuinely human and unaffected and so openly scorned all toadyism that they soon forgot his greatness in the financial world and accepted him simply as a good fellow and an invariably cheerful comrade. The weather was somewhat rough for the latter part of March--they had sailed the twenty-seventh--but the "Irene" was so staunch and rode the waves so gracefully that none of the party except Louise was at all affected by the motion. The eldest cousin, however, claimed to be indisposed for the first few days out, and so Beth and Patsy and Uncle John sat in a row in their steamer chairs, with the rugs tucked up to their waists, and kept themselves and everyone around them merry and light hearted. Next to Patsy reclined a dark complexioned man of about thirty-five, with a long, thin face and intensely black, grave eyes. He was carelessly dressed and wore a flannel shirt, but there was an odd look of mingled refinement and barbarity about him that arrested the girl's attention. He sat very quietly in his chair, reserved both in speech and in manner; but when she forced him to talk he spoke impetuously and with almost savage emphasis, in a broken dialect that amused her immensely. "You can't be American," she said. "I am Sicilian," was the proud answer. "That's what I thought; Sicilian or Italian or Spanish; but I'm glad it's Sicilian, which is the same as Italian. I can't speak your lingo myself," she continued, "although I am studying it hard; but you manage the English pretty well, so we shall get along famously together." He did not answer for a moment, but searched her unconscious face with his keen eyes. Then he demanded, brusquely: "Where do you go?" "Why, to Europe," she replied, as if surprised. "Europe? Pah! It is no answer at all," he responded, angrily. "Europe is big. To what part do you journey?" Patsy hesitated. The magic word "Europe" had seemed to sum up their destination very effectively, and she had heretofore accepted it as sufficient, for the time being, at least. Uncle John had bought an armful of guide books and Baedeckers, but in the hurry of departure she had never glanced inside them. To go to Europe had been enough to satisfy her so far, but perhaps she should have more definite knowledge concerning their trip. So she turned to Uncle John and said: "Uncle, dear, to what part of Europe are we going?" "What part?" he answered. "Why, it tells on the ticket, Patsy. I can't remember the name just now. It's where the ship stops, of course." "That is Napoli," said the thin faced man, with a scarcely veiled sneer. "And then?" "And then?" repeated Patsy, turning to her Uncle. "Then? Oh, some confounded place or other that I can't think of. I'm not a time-table, Patsy; but the trip is all arranged, in beautiful style, by a friend of mine who has always wanted to go abroad, and so has the whole programme mapped out in his head." "Is it in his head yet?" enquired Patsy, anxiously. "No, dear; it's in the left hand pocket of my blue coat, all written down clearly. So what's the use of bothering? We aren't there yet. By and bye we'll get to Eu-rope an' do it up brown. Whatever happens, and wherever we go, it's got to be a spree and a jolly good time; so take it easy, Patsy dear, and don't worry." "That's all right, Uncle," she rejoined, with a laugh. "I'm not worrying the least mite. But when folks ask us where we're going, what shall we say?" "Eu-rope." "And then?" mischievously. "And then home again, of course. It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patsy Doyle, and a good bit straighter." That made her laugh again, and the strange Italian, who was listening, growled a word in his native language. He wasn't at all a pleasant companion, but for that very reason Patsy determined to make him talk and "be sociable." By degrees he seemed to appreciate her attention, and always brightened when she came to sit beside him. "You'll have to tell me your name, you know," she said to him; "because I can't be calling you 'Sir' every minute." He glanced nervously around. Then he answered, slowly: "I am called Valdi--Victor Valdi." "Oh, that's a pretty name, Mr. Valdi--or should I say Signor?" "You should." "Do I pronounce it right?" "No." "Well, never mind if I don't; you'll know what I mean, and that I intend to be proper and polite," she responded, sweetly. Beth, while she made fewer acquaintances than Patsy, seemed to have cast off her sullen reserve when she boarded the ship. In truth, the girl was really happy for the first time in her life, and it softened her so wonderfully and made her so attractive that she soon formed a select circle around her. A young lady from Cleveland, who had two big brothers, was impelled to introduce herself to Beth because of the young men's intense admiration for the girl's beautiful face. When it was found that they were all from Ohio, they formed a friendly alliance at once. Marion Horton was so frank and agreeable that she managed to draw out all that was best in Beth's nature, and the stalwart young Hortons were so shyly enthusiastic over this, their first trip abroad, that they inspired the girl with a like ardor, which resulted in the most cordial relations between them. And it so happened that several other young men who chanced to be aboard the "Princess Irene" marked the Hortons' intimacy with Beth and insisted on being introduced by them, so that by the time Louise had conquered her _mal-de-mer_ and appeared on deck, she found an admiring group around her cousin that included most of the desirable young fellows on the ship. Beth sat enthroned like a queen, listening to her courtiers and smiling encouragement now and then, but taking little part in the conversation herself because of her inexperience. Such adoration was new to the little country girl, and she really enjoyed it. Nor did the young men resent her silence. All that they wanted her to do, as Tom Horton tersely expressed it, was to "sit still and look pretty." As for Uncle John, he was so delighted with Beth's social success that he adopted all the boys on the spot, and made them a part of what he called his family circle. Louise, discovering this state of affairs, gave an amused laugh and joined the group. She was a little provoked that she had isolated herself so long in her cabin when there was interesting sport on deck; but having lost some valuable time she straightway applied herself to redeem the situation. In the brilliance of her conversation, in her studied glances, in a thousand pretty ways that were skillfully rendered effective, she had a decided advantage over her more beautiful cousin. When Louise really desired to please she was indeed a charming companion, and young men are not likely to detect insincerity in a girl who tries to captivate them. The result was astonishing to Uncle John and somewhat humiliating to Beth; for a new queen was presently crowned, and Louise by some magnetic power assembled the court around herself. Only the youngest Horton boy, in whose susceptible heart Beth's image was firmly enshrined, refused to change his allegiance; but in truth the girl enjoyed herself more genuinely in the society of one loyal cavalier than when so many were clamoring for her favors. The two would walk the deck together for hours without exchanging a single word, or sit together silently listening to the band or watching the waves, without the need, as Tom expressed it, of "jabbering every blessed minute" in order to be happy. Patsy was indignant at the artfulness of Louise until she noticed that Beth was quite content; then she laughed softly and watched matters take their course, feeling a little sorry for the boys because she knew Louise was only playing with them. The trip across the Atlantic was all too short. On the fifth of April they passed the Azores, running close to the islands of Fayal and San Jorge so that the passengers might admire the zigzag rows of white houses that reached from the shore far up the steep hillsides. On the sixth day they sighted Gibraltar and passed between the Moorish and Spanish lighthouses into the lovely waters of the Mediterranean. The world-famed rock was now disclosed to their eyes, and when the ship anchored opposite it Uncle John assisted his nieces aboard the lighter and took them for a brief excursion ashore. Of course they rode to the fortress and wandered through its gloomy, impressive galleries, seeing little of the armament because visitors are barred from the real fortifications. The fortress did not seem especially impregnable and was, taken altogether, a distinct disappointment to them; but the ride through the town in the low basket phaetons was wholly delightful. The quaint, narrow streets and stone arches, the beautiful vistas of sea and mountain, the swarthy, dark-eyed Moors whose presence lent to the town an oriental atmosphere, and the queer market-places crowded with Spaniards, Frenchmen, Jews and red-coated English soldiers, altogether made up a panorama that was fascinating in the extreme. But their stay was short, and after a rush of sightseeing that almost bewildered them they returned to the ship breathless but elated at having "seen an' done," as Uncle John declared, their first foreign port. And now through waters so brightly blue and transparent that they aroused the girls' wonder and admiration, the good ship plowed her way toward the port of Naples, passing to the east of Sardinia and Corsica, which they viewed with eager interest because these places had always seemed so far away to them, and had now suddenly appeared as if by magic directly before their eyes. Patsy and the big whiskered captain had become such good friends that he always welcomed the girl on his own exclusive deck, and this afternoon she sat beside him and watched the rugged panorama slip by. "When will we get to Naples?" she asked. "To-morrow evening, probably," answered the captain. "See, it is over in that direction, where the gray cloud appears in the sky." "And what is the gray cloud, Captain?" "I do not know," said he, gravely. "Perhaps smoke from Vesuvius. At Gibraltar we heard that the volcano is in an ugly mood, I hope it will cause you no inconvenience." "Wouldn't it be fine if we could see an eruption!" exclaimed the girl. The captain shook his head. "Interesting, perhaps," he admitted; "but no great calamity that causes thousands of people to suffer can be called 'fine.'" "Ah, that is true!" she said, quickly. "I had forgotten the suffering." Next morning all the sky was thick with smoke, and the sun was hidden. The waters turned gray, too, and as they approached the Italian coast the gloom perceptibly increased. A feeling of uneasiness seemed to pervade the ship, and even the captain had so many things to consider that he had no time to converse with his little friend. Signor Valdi forsook his deck chair for the first time and stood at the rail which overlooked the steerage with his eyes glued to the grim skies ahead. When Uncle John asked him what he saw he answered, eagerly: "Death and destruction, and a loss of millions of lira to the bankrupt government. I know; for I have studied Etna for years, and Vesuvio is a second cousin to Etna." "Hm," said Uncle John. "You seem pleased with the idea of an eruption." The thin faced man threw a shrewd look from his dark eyes and smiled. Uncle John frowned at the look and stumped away. He was not at all easy in his own mind. He had brought three nieces for a holiday to this foreign shore, and here at the outset they were confronted by an intangible danger that was more fearful because it was not understood. It was enough to make his round face serious, although he had so strong an objection to unnecessary worry. Afternoon tea was served on deck amidst an unusual quiet. People soberly canvassed the situation and remarked upon the fact that the darkness increased visibly as they neared the Bay of Naples. Beth couldn't drink her tea, for tiny black atoms fell through the air and floated upon the surface of the liquid. Louise retired to her stateroom with a headache, and found her white serge gown peppered with particles of lava dust which had fallen from the skies. The pilot guided the ship cautiously past Capri and into the bay. The air was now black with volcanic dross and a gloom as of midnight surrounded them on every side. The shore, the mountain and the water of the bay itself were alike invisible. CHAPTER V VESUVIUS RAMPANT It was Saturday night, the seventh day of April, nineteen hundred and six--a night never to be forgotten by those aboard the ship; a night which has its place in history. At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner. A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and saloons to escape the lava dust. Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of the

kindred

How many times the word 'kindred' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

middle

How many times the word 'middle' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

through

How many times the word 'through' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

easy

How many times the word 'easy' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

throws

How many times the word 'throws' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

gone

How many times the word 'gone' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

days

How many times the word 'days' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

away

How many times the word 'away' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

ear

How many times the word 'ear' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

should

How many times the word 'should' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

maybe

How many times the word 'maybe' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

stompin

How many times the word 'stompin' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

malicious

How many times the word 'malicious' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

gingerly

How many times the word 'gingerly' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

pathetic

How many times the word 'pathetic' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

walks

How many times the word 'walks' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

forth

How many times the word 'forth' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

ruggles

How many times the word 'ruggles' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

alighted

How many times the word 'alighted' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

doctor

How many times the word 'doctor' appears in the text?

BARTON'S FEET Swinging in the legwell. One foot idly swings over to nudge a pair of nicely shined shoes from where they rest, under the secretary, into the legwell. We hear typing start. THE PAGE A new paragraph being started: "A large man..." BARTON'S FEET As he slides them into the shoes. THE PAGE "A large man in tights..." The typing stops. BARTON Looking quizzically at the page. What's wrong? HIS FEET Sliding back and forth swimming in his shoes, which are several sizes too large. We hear a knock at the door. BARTON He rises and answers the door. Charlie stands smiling in the doorway, holding a pair of nicely shined shoes. CHARLIE I hope these are your shoes. BARTON Hi, Charlie. CHARLIE Because that would mean they gave you mine. BARTON Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. Come on in. The two stocking-footed men go into the room and Barton reaches under the secretary for Charlie's shoes. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day I've had. Ever had one of those days? BARTON Seems like nothing but, lately. Chalrie perches on the edge of the bed. CHARLIE Jesus, what a day. Felt like I couldn't've sold ice water in the Sahara. Jesus. Okay, so you don't want insurance, so okay, that's your loss. But God, people can be rude. Feel like I have to talk to a normal person like just to restore a little of my... BARTON Well, my pleasure. I could use a little lift myself. CHARLIE A little lift, yeah... Smiling, he takes out his flask. CHARLIE ...Good thing they bottle it, huh pal? He takes a glass from the bedstand and, as he pours Barton a shot: CHARLIE ...Did I say rude? People can be goddamn cruel. Especially some of their housewives. Okay, so I've got a weight problem. That's my cross to bear. I dunno... BARTON Well it's... it's a defense mechanism. CHARLIE Defense against what? Insurance? Something they need? Something they should be thanking me for offering? A little peace of mind?... He shakes his head. CHARLIE ...Finally decided to knock off early, take your advice. Went to see a doctor about this. He indicates his ear, still stuffed with cotton. CHARLIE ...He told me it was an ear infection. Ten dollars, please. I said, hell, I told YOU my ear was infected. Why don't YOU give ME ten dollars? Well, THAT led to an argument... He gives a rueful chuckle. CHARLIE ...Listen to me belly-achin'. As if my problems amounted to a hill of beans. How goes the life of the mind? BARTON Well, it's been better. I can't seem to get going on this thing. That one idea, the one that lets you get started I still haven't gotten it. Maybe I only had one idea in me my play. Maybe once that was done, I was done being a writer. Christ, I feel like a fraud, sitting here staring at this paper. CHARLIE Those two love-birds next door drivin' you nuts? Barton looks at him curiously. BARTON How did you know about that? CHARLIE Know about it? I can practically see how they're doin' it. Brother, I wish I had a piece of that. BARTON Yeah, but CHARLIE Seems like I hear everything that goes on in this dump. Pipes or somethin'. I'm just glad I don't have to ply MY trade in the wee-wee hours. He laughs. CHARLIE ...Ah, you'll lick this picture business, believe me. You've got a head on your shoulders. What is it they say? Where there's a head, there's a hope? BARTON Where there's life there's hope. Charlie laughs. CHARLIE That proves you really are a writer! Barton smiles. BARTON And there's hope for you too, Charlie. Tomorrow I bet you sell a half-dozen policies. CHARLIE Thanks, brother. But the fact is, I gotta pull up stakes temporarily. BARTON You're leaving? CHARLIE In a few days. Out to your stompin' grounds as a matter of fact New York City. Things have gotten all balled up at the Head Office. BARTON I'm truly sorry to hear that, Charlie. I'll miss you. CHARLIE Well hell, buddy, don't pull a long face! This is still home for me I keep my room, and I'll be back sooner or later... Barton rises and walks over to his writing table. CHARLIE ...And mark my words by the time I get back you're picture'll be finished. I know it. Barton scribbles on a notepad and turns to hand it to Charlie. BARTON New York can be pretty cruel to strangers, Charlie. If you need a home-cooked meal you just look up Morris and Lillian Fink. They live on Fulton Street with my uncle Dave. We hear a tacky, tearing sound. Barton looks toward the door. Charlie rises and walks over to the stand next to where Barton sits. The two staring men form an odd, motionless tableau the slight, bespectacled man seated; the big man standing in a hunch with his hands on his thighs; their heads close together. THEIR POV A swath of wallpaper in the entryway has pulled away from the wall. It sags and nods. CHARLIE (off) Christ! THE TWO MEN Frozen, looking. CHARLIE ...Your room does that too? BARTON I guess the heat's sweating off the wallpaper. CHARLIE What a dump... He heads for the door and Barton follows. CHARLIE ...I guess it seems pathetic to a guy like you. BARTON Well... CHARLIE Well it's pathetic, isn't it? I mean to a guy from New York. BARTON What do you mean? CHARLIE This kind of heat. It's pathetic. BARTON Well, I guess you pick your poison. CHARLIE So they say. BARTON Don't pick up and leave without saying goodbye. CHARLIE Course not, compadre. You'll see me again. Barton closes the door. He goes back to the desk, sits, and stares at the typewriter. After a beat he tips back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. We hear a loud thump. HIS POV The ceiling a white, seamless space. As we track in the thumping continues slowly, rhythmically, progressively louder the effect, it seems, of odd doings upstairs. LOOKING DOWN ON BARTON From a high angle, tipped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. We track slowly down toward him. The thumping continues, growing louder, sharper. HIS POV Moving in on the ceiling. We close in on an unblemished area and cease to have any sense of movement. With a blur something huge and dark sweeps across the frame to land with a deafening crash, and an instant later it is gone, having left a huge black "T" stamped into the white ceiling. We are pulling back from the white, past the metal prongs of the key-strike area on a typewriter. More letters appear rapid-fire, growing smaller as the pull back continues. The thumpimg becomes the clacking of the typewriter. BEN GEISLER Is emerging from his office. As he enters the secretary stops typing, glances down at a slip of paper, and murmurs tonelessly, without looking up: SECRETARY Barton Fink. GEISLER Yeah. Fink. Come in. The clack of the typewriter resumes as Barton rises. GEISLER'S OFFICE The two men enter. This office is considerably smaller than Lipnik's, done in grays and black. There are pictures on the wall of Geisler with various celebrities. Geisler sits behind his desk. GEISLER Wuddya got for me what the hell happened to your face? BARTON Nothing. It's just a mosquito bite. GEISLER Like hell it is; there are no mosquitos in Los Angeles. Mosquitos breed in swamps this is a desert town. Wuddya got for me? BARTON Well I... GEISLER On the Beery picture! Where are we? Wuddya got? BARTON Well, to tell you the truth, I'm having some trouble getting started GEISLER Getting STARTED! Christ Jesus! Started?! You mean you don't have ANYthing?! BARTON Well not much. Geisler leaps to his feet and paces. GEISLER What do you think this is? HAMLET? GONE WITH THE WIND? RUGGLES OF RED GAP? It's a goddamn B picture! Big men in tights! You know the drill! BARTON I'm afraid I don't really understand that genre. maybe that's the prob- GEISLER Understand shit! I though you were gonna consult another writer on this! BARTON Well, I've talked to Bill Mayhew- GEISLER Bill Mayhew! Some help! The guy's a souse! BARTON He's a great writer GEISLER A souse! BARTON You don't understand. He's in pain, because he can't write- GEISLER Souse! Souse! He manages to write his name on the back of his paycheck every week! BARTON But... I thought no one cared about this picture. GEISLER You thought! Where'd you get THAT from? You thought! I don't know what the hell you said to Lipnik, but the sonofabitch LIKES you! You understand that, Fink? He LIKES you! He's taken an interest. NEVER make Lipnik like you. NEVER! Some puzzlement shows through Barton's weariness. BARTON I don't understand- GEISLER Are you deaf, he LIKES you! He's taken an interest! What the hell did you say to him? BARTON I didn't say anything- GEISLER Well he's taken an interest! That means he'll make your life hell, which I could care less about, but since I drew the short straw to supervise this turkey, he's gonna be all over me too! Fat-assed sonofabitch called me yesterday to ask how it's going don't worry, I covered for you. Told him you were making progress and we were all very excited. I told him it was great, so now MY ass is on the line. He wants you to tell him all about it tomorrow. BARTON I can't write anything by tomorrow. GEISLER Who said write? Jesus, Jack can't read. You gotta TELL it to him-tell him SOMEthing for Chrissake. BARTON Well what do I tell him? Geisler rubs a temple, studies Barton for a beat, then picks up a telephone. GEISLER Projection... As he waits, Geisler gives Barton a withering stare. It continues throughout the phone conversation. GEISLER ... Jerry? Ben Geisler here. Any of the screening rooms free this afternoon?... Good, book it for me. A writer named Fink is gonna come in and you're gonna show him wrestling pictures... I don't give a shit which ones! WRESTLING pictures! Wait a minute- isn't Victor Sjoderberg shooting one now?... Show him some of the dailies on that. He slams down the phone. GEISLER ...This ought to give you some ideas. He jots an address on a piece of paper and hands it to Barton. GEISLER ...Eight-fifteen tomorrow morning at Lipnik's house. Ideas. Broad strokes. Don't cross me, Fink. SCREEN Black-and-white footage. A middle-aged man with a clapstick enters and shouts: CLAPPER DEVIL ON THE CANVAS, twelve baker take one. Clap! The clapper withdraws. The angle is on a corner of the ring, where an old corner man stands behind his charge, a huge man in tights who is a little too flabby to be a real athlete. His hair is plastered against his bullet skull and he has a small mustache. VOICE Action. The wrestler rises from his stool and heads toward center ring and the camera. He affects a German accent: WRESTLER I will destroy him! He passes the camera. VOICE Cut. Flash frames. The clapper enters again. CLAPPER Twelve baker take two. Clap! He exits. The wrestler moves toward the camera. WRESTLER I will destroy him! VOICE Cut. The clapper enters CLAPPER Twelve baker take three. Clap! WRESTLER I will destroy him! SLOW TRACK IN ON BARTON Seated alone in a dark screening room, the shaft of the projection beam flickering over his left shoulder. As we creep in closer: WRESTLER (off) I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... I will destroy him!... Another off-microphone, distant voice from the screen: VOICE Okay, take five... THE SCREEN A jerky pan, interrupted by flash frames. The wrestler is standing in a corner joking with a makeup girl who pats down his face as he smokes a cigarette. A cut in the film and another clapstick enters. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take one- ON THE CLAP: BACK TO BARTON Staring at the screen, dull, wan, and forlorn. VOICE (off) Action. THE SCREEN The angle is low canvas level. We hold for a brief moment on the empty canvas before two wrestlers crash down into frame. The German is underneath, on his back, pinned by the other man. The referee enters, cropped at the knees, and throws counting fingers down into frame. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! The German bucks and throws his opponent out of frame. VOICE Cut. CLAPPER Twelve charlie take two. Crash. REFEREE One... two... WRESTLER AAAAHHHH!! BARTON Glazed. WRESTLER (off) AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAHHHHHH!!... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!... PAGE IN TYPEWRITER The screaming drops out abruptly at cut. We hear only the sound of heavy footfalls on carpet. Below the opening paragraph, two new words have been added to the typescript: "Orphan?" "Dame?" The foot falls continue. THE HOTEL ROOM Night. Barton paces frantically back and forth. He looks at his watch. HIS POV It is 12:30. CLOSE ON THE PHONE It is lifted out of the cradle. BARTON Hello, Chet, it's Barton Fink in 605. Can you try a number for me in Hollywood... Slausen 6-4304. We pull back to frame in Barton as we hear his call ring through. Barton sweats. BARTON Pick it up... Pick it up. Pick it- AUDREY Hello. BARTON Audrey, listen, I need help. I know it's late and I shouldn't be calling you like this believe me I wouldn't have if I could see any other alternative, but I I'm sorry - listen, how are you I'm sorry. You doing okay? AUDREY ...Who is this? BARTON Barton. I'm sorry, it's Barton Fink. Through the phone, in the background, we hear Mayhew's drunken bellowing. MAYHEW Sons of bitches! Drown 'em all! We hear various objects dropping or being thrown to the floor. AUDREY Barton, I'm afraid it's not a good time- MAYHEW Drown all those rascals... BARTON I'm sorry, I just feel like I know I shouldn't ask, I just need some kind of help, I just, I have a deadline tomorrow- MAYHEW I said drown 'em all! Who is that? There is more clatter. Audrey's voice is hushed, close to the phone: AUDREY All right Barton, I'll see if I can slip away- MAYHEW Who is that?! Gaddamn voices come into the house... sons of bitches... BARTON If you could, I'd AUDREY If I can. He gets jealous; he- MAYHEW Goddamn voices... DROWN 'EM! BARTON I need help, Audrey. AUDREY I'll try to slip out. If he quiets down, passes out... I'm afraid he thinks well, he said you were a buffoon, Barton. He becomes irrational MAYHEW Hesh up! Be still now! DROWN 'EM! DROWN 'EM! DROWN WIDE ON THE ROOM Later. It is quiet. We are craning down toward the bed, where Barton lies stretched out, his head buried beneath a pillow as if to blot out the world. The track reveals the wristwatch on Barton's dangled arm: 1:30. THE HALLWAY At the end of the dimly lit corridor a red light blinks on over the elevator, with a faint bell. BACK TO BARTON With two violent and simultaneous motions he whips the pillow off his head and throws out his other wrist to look at his watch. There is a knock at the door. Barton swings his feet off the bed. THE DOORWAY Barton opens the door to Audrey. AUDREY Hello, Barton. BARTON Audrey, thank you for coming. Thank you. I'm sorry to be such a... such a... Thank you. They enter the main room, where Audrey perches on the edge of the bed. AUDREY Now that's all right, Barton. Everything'll be all right. BARTON Yes. Thank you. How's Bill? AUDREY Oh, he's... he drifted off. He'll sleep for a while now. What is it you have to do, exactly? Barton paces. BARTON Well I have to come up with an outline, I'd guess you call it. The story. The whole goddamn story. Soup to nuts. Three acts. The whole goddamn- AUDREY It's alright, Barton. You don't have to write actual scenes? BARTON No, but the whole goddamn Audrey? Have you ever had to read any of Bill's wrestling scenarios? Audrey laughs. AUDREY Yes, I'm afraid I have. BARTON What are they like? What are they about? AUDREY Well, usually, they're... simply morality tales. There's a good wrestler, and a bad wrestler whom he confronts at the end. In between, the good wrestler has a love interest or a child he has to protect. Bill would usually make the good wrestler a backwoods type, or a convict. And sometimes, instead of a waif, he'd have the wrestler protecting an idiot manchild. The studio always hated that. Oh, some of the scripts were so... spirited! She laughs then stops, realizing that she has laughed. She looks at Barton. AUDREY ...Barton. She shakes her head. AUDREY ...Look, it's really just a formula. You don't have to type your soul into it. We'll invent some names and a new setting. I'll help you and it won't take any time at all. I did it for Bill so many times Barton's pacing comes up short. BARTON Did what for Bill? Guardedly: AUDREY Well... THIS. BARTON You wrote his scripts for him? AUDREY Well, the basic ideas were frequently his- BARTON You wrote Bill's scripts! Jesus Christ, you wrote his what about before that? AUDREY Before what? BARTON Before Bill came to Hollywood. Audrey is clearly reluctant to travel this path. AUDREY Well, Bill was ALWAYS the author, so to speak- BARTON What do you mean so to speak?! Audrey, how long have you been his... secretary? AUDREY Barton, I think we should concentrate on OUR little project- BARTON I want to know how many of Bill's books you wrote! AUDREY Barton! BARTON I want to know! AUDREY Barton, honestly, only the last couple- BARTON Hah! AUDREY And my input was mostly... EDITORIAL, really, when he'd been drinking- BARTON I'll bet. Jesus "The grand productive days." What a goddamn phony. He resumes pacing. BARTON ...W.P. Mayhew. William Goddamn Phony Mayhew. All his guff about escape. Hah! I'LL say he escaped! Barton sighs and looks at his watch. BARTON ...Well, we don't have much time. He sits down next to Audrey. Audrey's tone is gentle. AUDREY It'll be fine... Don't judge him, Barton. Don't condescend to him... She strokes Barton's hair. AUDREY ...It's not as simple as you think. I helped Bill most by appreciating him, by understanding him. We all need understanding, Barton. Even you, tonight, it's all you really need... She kisses him. As Barton tentatively responds, we are panning away. We frame up on the door to the bathroom and track in toward the sink. We can hear the creak of bedsprings and Audrey and Barton's breath, becoming labored. The continuing track brings us up to and over the lid of the sink to frame up its drain, a perfect black circle in the porcelain white. We track up to the drain and are enveloped by it as the sound of lovemaking mixes into the groaning of pipes. BLACK FADE IN: BARTON The hum of a mosquito brings us out of the black and we are looking down at Barton, in bed, asleep. It is dawn. Barton's eyes snap open. HIS POV The white ceiling. A humming black speck flits across the white. BARTON Slowly, cautiously, he props himself up, his look following the sound of the mosquito. His gaze travels down and to one side and is arrested as the hum stops. HIS POV Audrey lies facing away on her side of the bed, half covered by a blanket. BARTON Gingerly, he reaches over and draws the blanket down Audrey's back. HIS POV The alabaster white of Audrey's back. The mosquito is feeding on it. EXTREME CLOSE ON BARTON'S EYES Looking. EXTREME CLOSE ON THE MOSQUITO Swelling with blood. WIDER As Barton's hand comes through frame and slaps Audrey's back. She doesn't react. Barton draws his hand away. Audrey's back is smeared with blood. ON BARTON He looks at his hand. HIS POV His hand is dripping with blood. Too much blood. BACK TO BARTON Eyes wide, he looks down at the bed. HIS POV Blood seeps up into the sheet beneath the curve of Audrey's back. BARTON He pulls Audrey's shoulder. AUDREY She rolls onto her back. Her eyes are wide and lifeless. Her stomach is nothing but blood. The top sheet, drawn to her waist is drenched red and clings to her body. BARTON He screams. He screams again. We hear rapid and heavy footfalls next door, a door opening and closing, and then a loud banging on Barton's door. Barton's head spins towards the door. He is momentarily frozen. Another knock. Barton leaps to his feet and hurries to the door. THE DOORWAY Over Barton's shoulder as he cracks the door. Charlie stands in the hall in his boxer shorts and a sleeveless tee. CHARLIE Are you all right? Barton stares dumbly for a moment. CHARLIE ...Can I come in? BARTON No!... I'm fine. Thank you. CHARLIE Are you sure BARTON No... no... Barton is nodding as he shuts the door in Charlie's face. He walks back into the room. HIS POV Audrey's corpse, in long shot, face up on the bed. BARTON He walks toward the bed, wheels before he reaches it, and starts back toward the door. He stops short and turns back again to the room. He averts his eyes as it happens, toward the secretary. He walks stiffly over and sits, his back to Audrey. CLOSE ON BARTON As he sits in. He stares emptily down at the desk, in shock, totally shut down. Behind him, we can see Audrey on the bed. He stares for a long beat. Strange, involuntary noises come from his throat. He is not in control. Becoming aware of the noise he is making, he stops. He lurches to his feet. THE DOORWAY As Barton enters, opens the door, and sticks his head out. HALLWAY Barton peers out the see if the coast is clear. HIS POV The long hallway. In the deep background, Chet, the night clerk, is stooping in front of a door to pick up a pair of shoes. Next to him is a castored shoe caddy. All of the doorways between us and Chet are empty of shoes. CHET Close on him as, mid-stoop, he looks up. CHET'S POV Up the long hall. In the deep background a door is closing. CHET He pauses, then straightens up and puts the shoes on the shoe caddy. It squeaks as he pushes it on down the hall. BARTON'S ROOM Barton stands at the door, listening to a very faint squeak. Eventually it becomes inaudible. He cracks the door again, looks out, and exits. HALLWAY Barton goes to Charlie's room and knocks. Footfalls end as the door is cracked open. CHARLIE Barton. Are you all right? BARTON No... Can I come in? CHARLIE Why don't we go to your room- BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble. You've gotta help me. Once again he is breathing hard. Charlie steps out into the hall and shuts the door behind him. CHARLIE Get a grip on yourself, brother. Whatever the problem is, we'll sort it out. BARTON Charlie, I'm in trouble something horrible's happened I've gotta call the police... Charlie leads him towards his room. BARTON ...Will you stay with me till they get here? CHARLIE Don't worry about it, Barton. We can sort it- He is pushing Barton's door open, but Barton grabs an elbow to stop him. BARTON Before you go in I didn't do this. I don't know how it happened, but I didn't... I want you to know that... Charlie looks into his eyes. For a moment the two men stare at each other Charlie's look inquisitive, Barton's supplicating. Finally, Charlie nods. CHARLIE Okay. He turns and pushes open the door. BARTON'S ROOM The two men enter. Barton lingers by the door. Charlie walks into the foreground to look off toward the bed. His eyes widen and he screams. He turns and disappears into the bathroom. We hear vomiting, then the flush of a toilet. CHARLIE Jesus... Jesus... Jesus have mercy... His reaction has not encouraged Barton, who is more and more agitated. Charlie emerges from the bathroom, sweating. CHARLIE ...Jesus, Barton, what the hell is this? What're we gonna do? BARTON I've gotta call the police or you could call for me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON You gotta believe me CHARLIE Hold on BARTON I didn't do this, I did NOT do this CHARLIE Hold on. Stop. Take a deep breath. Tell me what happened. BARTON I don't know! I woke up, she was... God, you gotta believe me! Charlie, in spite of himself, is sneaking horrified glances back into the room. CHARLIE I believe you, brother, but this don't look good. BARTON We gotta call the police CHARLIE Hold on. I said hold on, so hold on. BARTON Yeah. CHARLIE What do you think happened? BARTON I don't know! Maybe it was her... boyfriend. I passed out. I don't know. Won't the police be able to CHARLIE Stop with the police! Wake up, friend! This does not look good! They hang people for this! BARTON But I didn't do it don't you believe me? CHARLIE I believe you I KNOW you. But why should the police? Barton gives him a dumb stare. CHARLIE ...Did you... Barton, between you and me, did you have sexual intercourse? Barton stares at Charlie. He swallows. Charlie shakes his head. CHARLIE Jesus... They can tell that... BARTON They GOTTA believe me, Charlie! They gotta have mercy! CHARLIE You're in pictures, Barton. Even if you got cleared eventually, this would ruin you. He turns and starts toward the bed. CHARLIE ...Wait in the bathroom. BATHROOM Later. Barton, still in his underwear, sits leaning against the wall, staring glassily at his feet. From the other room we hear the creak of bedsprings and the sounds of bed clothes being torn off. Finally there is a last creak of bedsprings and the sound of Charlie grunting under great weight. We hear heavy footsteps approaching. Barton looks up through the open bathroom door. HIS POV Charlie is groping for the front doorknob, cradling the sheetswaddled body in his arms. BACK TO BARTON His neck goes rubbery. His eyes roll up. His head lolls back to hit the wall. BLACK Slap! Slap! We are low on Charlie, who is following through on a slap and backing away, having aroused Barton. Charlie is now wearing pants but is still in his sleeveless tee, which has blood flecks across the belly. CHARLIE You passed out. Barton looks groggily up. BARTON ...Uh-huh... Where's Audrey? CHARLIE She's dead, Barton! If that was her name. TRACKING IN ON BARTON He stares at Charlie. CHARLIE (off) Barton, listen to me. You gotta act like nothing's happened. Put this totally out of your head. I know that's hard, but your play from here on out is just to go about business as usual. Give us some time to sort this out... Barton looks at his watch. THE WATCH 7:45. CHARLIE (off) ...Just put it out of you head... TRACKING Toward a pool set in a grand yard with shaped hedges and statuary set amid palms trees. Sunlight glitters angrily off the water; we are approaching Jack Lipnik who sits poolside in a white deck chair. LIPNIK Bart! So happy to see ya! REVERSE Pulling Barton, who is being escorted by Lou Breeze. Barton is haggard, sunken eyes squinting against too much sun. LIPNIK Sit! Talk! Relax for a minute, then talk! Drink? As Barton sits: BARTON Yeah... rye whiskey? LIPNIK Boy! You writers! Work hard, play hard! That's what I hear, anyway... He laughs, then barks at Lou Breeze. LIPNIK ... Lou. Lou exits. LIPNIK Anyway. Ben Geisler tells me things're going along great. Thinks we've got a real winner in this one. And let me tell you something, I'm counting on it. I've taken an interest. Not to interfere, mind you hardly seems necessary in your case. A writer a storyteller of your stature. Givitta me in bold strokes, Bart. Gimme the broad outlines. I'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, Capitol logo comes up... you're on! He beams expectantly at Barton. Barton licks his parched lips. BARTON Yeah, okay... well... we fade in... Lipnik is nodding, already involved in the story. BARTON ...It's a tenement building. On the Lower East Side... LIPNIK Great! He's poor, this wrestler! He's had to struggle! BARTON And then... well... Barton looks back out at the pool, his eyes closed to slits against the sun. He looks back at Lipnik. BARTON ...Can I be honest, Mr. Lipnik? LIPNIK CAN you? You damn well better be. Jesus, if I hadn't been honest in my business dealings well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things if I'd been totally honest, I wouldn't be within a mile of this pool unless I was cleaning it. But that's no reason for you not to be. Honest, I mean. Not cleaning the pool. Lou has entered with a drink, which he sets next to Barton. Lou sits. Barton looks around, takes the drink, sips at it greedily, but must finally take the plunge. BARTON Well... to be honest, I'm never really comfortable discussing a work in progress. I've got it all worked out in my head, but sometimes if you force it out in words prematurely the wrong words well, your meaning changes, and it changes your own mind, and you never get it back so I'd just as soon not talk about it. Lipnik stares at him. His smile has disappeared. There is a long beat. Lou Breeze clears his throat. He apparently feels

pulls

How many times the word 'pulls' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

impossible

How many times the word 'impossible' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

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How many times the word 'spaced' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

praise

How many times the word 'praise' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

veneer

How many times the word 'veneer' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

ingots

How many times the word 'ingots' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

again

How many times the word 'again' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

minor

How many times the word 'minor' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

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How many times the word 'back' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

structure

How many times the word 'structure' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

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How many times the word 'er' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

calling

How many times the word 'calling' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

burden

How many times the word 'burden' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

or

How many times the word 'or' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

downstairs

How many times the word 'downstairs' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

clear

How many times the word 'clear' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

designs

How many times the word 'designs' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

pennies

How many times the word 'pennies' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

birds

How many times the word 'birds' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

architect

How many times the word 'architect' appears in the text?

BILL (a skeptical look at the roof) No thanks, I'll just stay out in the car and listen to "Life Can Be Beautiful." As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash, followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns back to Bill. MURIEL I think you'd better contact Mr. Apollonio. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio is thoughtfully noncommittal. MURIEL It has charm, hasn't it, Mr. Apollonio? APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Uh-huh. JIM Of course, any small changes would have to conform with the character of the countryside. APOLLONIO (through his cigar) Mm-hmm. MURIEL And yet still be functional. Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house, kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him anxiously. APOLLONIO (gazing upward; oblivious) Uh-huh. As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel, limps his way over to him. JIM Well, uh, what's your professional opinion? Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth. APOLLONIO Tear it down. JIM (appalled) Tear it down??! APOLLONIO If your chimney was shot and your sills was okay, I'd say go ahead, fix her up. If your sills was shot and your chimney was okay, again I'd say go ahead, fix her up. But your sills are shot and your chimney is shot. During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks through it at the house. APOLLONIO (beckoning) Take a look at the way she sags. The Blandings step over, look through the frame. WHAT THEY SEE. What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants, sagging perceptibly. THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay. APOLLONIO So I say don't throw good money after bad -- tear it down. JIM (coolly) Thanks a lot. APOLLONIO It's okay. He tips his hat, walks out of scene. JIM (bitterly) Bill Cole and his experts! MURIEL (bitterly) Darling, we'll get our own experts. DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with Mr. Simpson, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And so they got their own experts. Mr. Simpson said -- SIMPSON Tear it down. The Blandings look at each other. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings have just finished examining the house with Mr. Murphy, another expert. BILL'S VOICE On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said -- MURPHY I think you'd better tear it down. The Blandings smile feebly. FAST DISSOLVE EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY The Blandings and Jones, another expert. BILL'S VOICE And then just to be a wee bit different, Mr. Jones said -- JONES (firmly; deep bass voiced) Tear it down! The Blandings are now considerably shaken. DISSOLVE A SHINGLE. A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering: HENRY L. SIMMS ARCHITECT BILL'S VOICE And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms, came into it. DISSOLVE INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room. Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander, a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the window frame. SIMMS Of course you could fix up that old house. You can fix up any structure that's still standing. The sills and floors couldn't be worse, I grant you, and I guess you'd have to jack up that west corner at least three feet to make it level. Need new chimney. New roof. Complete new plumbing. (sigh) Too bad you didn't buy it ten years ago. Could have fixed it up in jig time then, and it would have made some sense. JIM (nervously nibbling at his nails) Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh. SIMMS Fact is, before you're through, it would be less expensive to tear the old place down and build a new one, same size. JIM Mm. New house... (as the notion sinks in, becomes attractive) New house. MURIEL (to Simms, with pleasant incredulity) You mean... for the same money... we could build a brand new house? SIMMS It certainly wouldn't cost any more. JIM (soberly) Hm... New house... He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms: JIM (tentatively) Just... what sort of thing do you have in mind? SIMMS Well, I imagine the type of house you'd want would be something in quiet good taste, two story, frame and brick veneer construction -- modern, but of course fitting in with the architectural traditions of the countryside. JIM Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel? MURIEL I think it sounds fine. SIMMS Perhaps you'd like to see a basic floor plan -- (reaches into file behind him) -- something like this. Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him, the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the plan with interest. WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN. What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the various rooms SIMMS First floor. Living room, study, dining room, kitchen, service porch, maid's room -- upstairs three family bedrooms with two adjoining baths. THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen such a plan before in their lives. MURIEL It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh -- well -- doesn't it seem just a little bit conventional? JIM Yes, Simms, if we were going to build a house we want it -- well, you know -- just a little bit different. SIMMS (he's heard all this before) Yes, of course. JIM Now, for instance -- (takes Simms' pencil) THE DRAWING BOARD. THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks. JIM'S VOICE -- here in the study if we could just push out this wall a little -- and put in a built-in bar we could -- MURIEL'S VOICE Excuse me, dear -- Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience. MURIEL'S VOICE These bedrooms. They do seem rather small. And, of course we'd have to have a little dressing room -- and -- As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's fingers drum nervously. JIM'S VOICE And closets, Simms, lots of closets. (traces them in) If there's one thing this family needs, it's closets. SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil) If I might make a suggestion -- But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she draws them in) And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom must have at least one bathroom. SIMMS' VOICE But that would be four bathrooms, Mrs. Blandings -- (his hand reaches for the pencil) I think I'd better point out to you -- Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers and Muriel's drum in unison. JIM'S VOICE Just a minute. Do you think -- (tracing) we might manage a little playroom in the basement, nothing tremendous, you know, something like this -- SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for the pencil; cautiously) Well, it's always possible, but at the moment our fundamental problem -- But Muriel's hand has the pencil. MURIEL'S VOICE (as she traces) And I've always wanted a little sewing room upstairs -- (Jim's and Simms' fingers drum impatiently) You know, a little utility room where I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or on a rainy afternoon... JIM'S VOICE (as his hand takes pencil) Pardon me, dear. On that playroom, Simms, not too small. You know, plenty of room for ping-pong, darts, nice big poker table... SIMMS' VOICE (as his hand reaches for another pencil) If you don't mind, I -- But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear: MURIEL'S VOICE ...And off the kitchen, I'd like a little flower sink just to putter around in... JIM'S VOICE ...And a terrace off the study, with an owning and little outdoor fireplace... DISSOLVE THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions. THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through his hair. SIMMS (delicately) We-ll... let's just see what we have here. In the first place -- THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS' THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks. SIMMS' VOICE -- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs about twice as big as the downstairs. JIM'S VOICE It's all those bathrooms. MURIEL'S VOICE It is not, it's all those closets. THREE SHOT. THREE SHOT. SIMMS By extending this breakfast room you've eliminated the possibility of any stairs going to the second floor. JIM Oh, you can just shove those stairs in anywhere. SIMMS (patiently; almost paternally) And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing room, the way you have it now, the chimney stack would come up right through the middle of the room, leaving you with something in the shape of a square doughnut. (tactfully) Which, of course, might be very warm in winter, but otherwise of doubtful utility. MURIEL You could always move the chimney somewhere else, couldn't you? SIMMS We-ll... (rising; resigned to his fate but tactful) Look, I think I know just about what you two have in mind. Why don't I go ahead with some preliminary plans and -- JIM (hearty) You do that, Simms, but remember, we've got to hold it down to ten thousand. SIMMS (candid) That, I can tell you right now, is impossible. Even with a considerable trimming of the things you've indicated, I don't see how we can bring it in for less than twelve or twelve-five. JIM Twelve-five! (looks at Muriel; then) Well, I guess we're not going to quibble about a few pennies one way or the other. MURIEL (can't resist) No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never quibbles about pennies. SIMMS And -- uh -- have you any notions about how you'd like the old place taken down? JIM (a rueful joke) Why don't we just blow on it? SIMMS (wry smile) There's a good local house wrecker. I'll have him contact you. Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders. JIM Fine. You just shoot ahead with those plans, and remember, try to keep it down to ten, ten-five. SIMMS (doubtfully) Well -- we'll try. As the Blandings walk to the door: JIM There's one good thing about getting that old relic down. Those original beams and everything -- this time somebody pays us. As they go out the door: DISSOLVE EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS MATTE SHOT) Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow. Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about. The piles are reasonably neat and sorted. HACKETT Them beams is worth money. You payin' him, or he payin' you? WRECKER He's payin' me. HACKETT How much? WRECKER (hesitating) A thousand. HACKETT A thousand! WRECKER He squawked, but he paid. HACKETT (drily) Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little somethin' comin' too. As he starts out of scene: VOICE Okay, boys, let her go! Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull. MINIATURE SHOT MINIATURE SHOT - What is left of the house collapses. EXT. HILL OVERLOOKING THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - PROCESS OF MATTE OR MINIATURE SHOT Jim and Muriel are standing there, having watched the demolition. As the dust settles: JIM (sigh) Well, so far it's cost us thirteen thousand, three hundred and twenty- nine dollars and forty-five cents. MURIEL But we've got the nicest vacant lot in the state of Connecticut. They exchange a look of mixed emotions. DISSOLVE SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS INSERT SIMMS' NEW PRELIMINARY PLANS - Fresh and workmanlike, a few small sections crossed out where cuts have been indicated. SIMMS' VOICE (wearily) Something will have to give somewhere, that I know. The CAMERA ANGLE WIDENS to disclose: INT. THE BLANDINGS' LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Jim, Muriel and Simms are going over the preliminary plans. Betsy and Joan are present, Betsy reading the Lansdale Blade and Joan reading a science book. MURIEL It's impossible. I don't see how we can cut another inch. JIM Honey, you heard Simms. As the house stands now it's over fifteen thousand dollars! MURIEL Well, it just doesn't seem possible -- (afterthought) for a house with such small rooms. SIMMS (patiently) Mrs. Blandings, I've already explained. It's not only the size of the rooms so much as it is the number. You see, our primary problem is one of cubage -- JIM That's right, dear, cubage. MURIEL What's that? JIM Oh -- (sorry he got into it) just a figure of speech. MURIEL But what does it mean? JIM (a little irritably) Cubage. It's just the number of cubic feet that -- (lost, lamely) -- go into a cubic foot. Go on, Simms. SIMMS (consulting plans) Now is it absolutely essential for each of your daughters to have her own room with two closets and a separate bath? JIM (a look at the girls; clearing his throat) Yes. You see, er, my daughters are, er, approaching womanhood, and, er -- SIMMS (brief look at the girls) I hadn't realized they were approaching it quite so fast. (to Jim) Perhaps what you need is not so much a house as a series of little bungalows. JIM Hmmm. (examining plans) What about that silly flower sink? We could eliminate that. MURIEL I beg your pardon. JIM Or that sewing room upstairs, that's certainly a waste. MURIEL If we're going to eliminate anything, we'll lose that ridiculous play room in the basement with that great big poker table. JIM Honey, I've got to have some relaxation. MURIEL We've got thirty-one and a half acres. Go out in the back and do a little gardening. JIM Sure, and get poison ivy! SIMMS (with dogged patience) If I may interrupt, I'd like to suggest that none of these are really major eliminations. Now if we could do with one less bathroom on the second floor -- MURIEL I'm sorry. We couldn't possibly. SIMMS Mrs. Blandings, a simple bathroom, eight by ten by eight with grade A fixtures will cost around thirteen hundred dollars. MURIEL I refuse to endanger the health of my children in a house with less than four bathrooms. JIM For thirteen hundred dollars they can live in a house with three bathrooms and rough it! SIMMS Look, perhaps the most practical thing would be -- BETSY Oh, look, we're in the Lansdale paper! (reading) "Historical Society Blasts Vandalism!" JIM Muriel, Simms explained to you. We've just got to cut, cut -- (reacts) What's that? BETSY (reading) "Censure Vote Passed re Destruction of Famed Hackett Edifice." JIM Well, isn't that just too bad! Let me see that. He takes the paper, scans it, suddenly bursts into laughter. MURIEL What's so funny. JIM (laughing) Prutty. Mrs. Bildad Prutty. Get a load of this! (reads) "The semi-monthly meeting of the Lansdale Historical Society was turned into an uproar last night when its president, Mrs. Bildad Prutty" -- How do you like that, Bildad Prutty? -- "reported the total demolition by its New York buyer of the historic old Hackett house." (laughs) Bildad Prutty! Muriel, I've got to send this to the New Yorker! BETSY (drily) Read on, father. JIM (scans paper) "Mrs. Prutty," -- Bildad, that is -- "reminded her audience that several years ago the Society started to raise a fund to purchase and restore the old house to its original condition." (looks up, laughs scornfully) BETSY Read on, father. JIM (back to paper) "The project fell through by being seven hundred dollars short of the sum of twenty-six hundred dollars..." (Jim slows down as the following registers) "...which Ephemus Hackett testified was the lowest reasonable price he could accept as --" The paper drops. JIM (weakly) ...Twenty-six hundred dollars. BETSY And what did we pay, father? JOAN Eleven-five, with the commission. JIM Muriel, isn't it time for those children to be in bed? MURIEL Now girls, I don't want to tell you again. The front doorbell rings. MURIEL Excuse me. As the CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel to the door, we hear: JIM'S VOICE Twenty-six hundred dollars! SIMMS' VOICE (comfortingly) I wouldn't be too concerned about Mrs. Prutty and her committee. After all, it's your property and if you want to tear it down -- Muriel opens the door, admits an excited Bill Cole. MURIEL (surprised) Why, Bill! BILL (briefly) Hello, Muriel. (he strides past her waving a telegram; to Jim) Well, you've done it again'. Once, just once, why don't you come to me and find out if it's all right, if it's legal, before you go barging off and run yourself smack into another jam! JIM What's eating you? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And I must say, Simms, I hold you equally responsible! JIM (alarmed) What? What happened? SIMMS I'm afraid I don't understand. BILL (to Simms; indicating Jim) Did you let this idiot tear down that house? JIM What if he did? What of it? SIMMS (to Bill) Reconstruction was unsound and totally impractical. BILL I quite agree. But you're dealing with a man who doesn't think before he acts, who goes off half-cocked! JIM What is it? What did I do? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) You're an architect! You must have been aware of the legality involved. JIM What? What legality? BILL (to Simms) You knew there was a mortgage on that house. SIMMS I assumed as much. JIM What happened? What are you talking about? BILL (ignoring him; to Simms) And you know the requirements in regard to a mortgage where there's demolition intended! SIMMS Certainly. But since you were his lawyer, I naturally assumed -- BILL With a man like this you can't assume anything! JIM (loudly) Just one minute! I am entitled to know what I did! This is America! A man's guilty until he's proven innocent -- BETSY It's the other way around, father. JIM You go to bed! MURIEL Girls! JIM Bill, I've had a very trying day. Would you mind telling me in clear, concise English just what crime I've committed -- and why?! BILL (with weary resignation) In clear, concise English, you tore down a house on which another man holds a mortgage without first getting his written permission. JIM Well, I -- I did?! BILL And in such case, the mortgagee can demand the full payment of said mortgage upon demand -- (waves telegram) and Mr. Ephemus Hackett so demands! Six thousand clams! And he wants them now! JIM (appalled) Now?! BILL You've got ten days. Jim gulps. Pause. JOAN For six thousand dollars we could have had a Solaxion house and a Crane Mobile home. JIM Muriel! MURIEL (herding the kids toward the door) Girls, say your good nights and off to bed without another word. BETSY (reluctantly) Good night, Mr. Simms. Uncle Bill. JOAN (protesting) Miss Stellwagon says the problems of the parents should be the problems of the children. MURIEL (shooing them out) You keep that in mind, dear. It'll help prepare you for motherhood. The children exit. An embarrassed pause. SIMMS Perhaps we'd better let the plans go for the time being and -- JIM (weakly) No, Simms, I'll work this out. You go ahead with your final plans and let's see some estimates. MURIEL And we'll just forget about that extra bathroom. SIMMS (preparing to leave) Very well. You'll hear from me as soon as possible. Good night. Good nights are exchanged. Muriel takes Simms out of scene toward the door. CAMERA HOLDS on Bill and Jim. JIM (defeated) Six thousand dollars! Bill looks at Jim with compassion. BILL What'll you do for collateral on your building loan? JIM I don't know, turn in my insurance policies or something. MURIEL (coming into scene) Now, Jim, you can't do that. JIM Why not? MURIEL What if something should happen? You can't leave the children unprotected. JIM (somewhat irritably) I'm not dead yet! And if I die, there's plenty left to take care of them. MURIEL Not if you cash in your policies. As Jim reacts with painful resignation: BILL I'm sure it won't be necessary. I'll see the boys at the bank. Maybe you can put up your insurance as collateral. If necessary, I'll sign a personal note. JIM (wearily) Thanks, Bill. BILL (paternally) And Jim, do me a little favor. The next time you're going to do anything, or say anything, or buy anything, think it over very carefully, and when you're sure you're right -- forget the whole thing. Good night, Muriel. He goes to Muriel and kisses her on the cheek. Jim sees it, is annoyed. MURIEL Good night, Bill. CAMERA FOLLOWS Muriel and Bill to the door. He exits. Muriel comes back into the room. MURIEL What a wonderful friend. JIM (darkly) What's with this kissing all of a sudden? MURIEL What's that? JIM Just because a man is helpful in a business way, it doesn't give him extra-curricular privileges with my wife! MURIEL That's a fine thing to say about a friend of fifteen years! JIM (testy) Well, I don't like it. Every time he goes out of this house, he shakes my hand and he kisses you. MURIEL (sharply) Would you prefer it the other way around?! JIM (irritably) Well, I don't like it, that's all! Why is he always hanging around? Why doesn't he ever get married -- or something? MURIEL (assumed innocence) Because he can't find another girl as sweet and pretty and wholesome as I am. JIM Well -- it -- it doesn't look right. There are limits to friendship and -- Muriel comes over, puts a sympathetic arm around him. MURIEL Darling, let's not be silly about this. It's not Bill, it's the house you're upset about. JIM (sigh) I suppose so. They kiss. JIM Do you think it's worth all this? MURIEL Of course, darling. We're not just building a house -- it's a home. A home for ourselves -- and our children -- and maybe our children's children. JIM (whimsically) It's getting awfully crowded with only three bathrooms. They look at each other, smile and kiss intimately, as we DISSOLVE INT. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY Jim and Muriel are watching Simms, who has just taken a typewritten sheet from his files. Simms looks at the sheet, turns to them a little apprehensively. SIMMS Well -- here are the estimates. Before you look at them, I think I'd better explain -- JIM Don't bother, Simms. (takes the sheet) I'm getting to be an old hand at this sort of -- Jim is halfway into his chair as his eye catches the first bid. There is a sharp MUSICAL EFFECT as Jim bounces out of his seat. JIM Jumping H. Mahogany --!! The CAMERA GOES IN for a CLOSE SHOT of the column of estimates. As the CAMERA IRISES DOWN ON each sum, there is a dissonant MUSICAL EFFECT. Antonio Doloroso, Builders $32,117.00 Caries & Plumline $30,500.00 Julius Akimbo & Co. $28,575.00 Zach, Tophet & Payne $24,250.00 John Retch & Son $21,000.00 THREE SHOT JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS THREE SHOT - Jim, Muriel, and Simms. Muriel has read the column over Jim's shoulder. SIMMS Now obviously these bids are way out of line, that is, all except John Retch and Son at twenty-one thousand. MURIEL (reacting) Twenty-one thousand! SIMMS And with some judicious cutting, I think we can pare that down to eighteen. MURIEL We've only asked for the barest necessities -- SIMMS Frankly, with all the extras you two have -- JIM Never mind. (hands estimates to Simms) If you'll just send us a bill for your services, I'll see that it's taken care of. (takes Muriel's hand and starts for door) Now, if you'll excuse us. MURIEL Where are we going? JIM I am going out to get my head examined! Then, if I don't jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, I'm going to find the owner of our building and sign a twenty-year lease! As they are about to exit, they pause as their eyes are caught by a drawing on an adjacent drawing board. WHAT THEY SEE - A BEAUTIFUL PENCIL AND CHARCOAL DRAWING What they see - a beautiful pencil and charcoal drawing of their completed prospective house. Under it, in neat letters is printed: RESIDENCE OF MR. AND MRS. JAMES H. BLANDINGS JIM, MURIEL, AND SIMMS. Jim, Muriel, and Simms. They look at the drawing, then at each other. Jim's face softens. Muriel looks at him appealingly. JIM (quietly) What's the name of that contractor? DISSOLVE INSERT JIM'S COST CHART. The house rests on the diagonal line at the figure of $13,500. As the miniscule Jim and Muriel watch with apprehension, the small figures of Smith and Hackett are joined by Simms, John W. Retch, and several sub contractors, who put their collective shoulders to the house and push it past the Blandings and up to $31,000.00 DISSOLVE EXCAVATION - LOCATION #2 - EARLY SPRING - DAY A sign on a sawhorse - it reads: JOHN W. RETCH AND SON Over scene is the thunderous dissonance of the various SOUNDS that go into preliminary construction. A steam shovel in action, a bulldozer, the sawing of wood, and intermittently the loud, earth-shaking crash of a well-digger's rig. As the CAMERA PULLS BACK, we see the machines and workmen at their various tasks. The scene has all the rustic peace of the invasion of Hollandia. The ANGLE CHANGES, and we see Jim, Muriel, and Bill drive up the improvised driveway very close to the scene of activity. INT. THE CAR - DAY Jim and Muriel look at their property with unconcealed pride. Bill is interested but would like it better if there were less noise. JIM (shouting over noise) Well, things are certainly humming. BILL (same) What's that? JIM (same) I said, humming. BILL Oh. As they get out of the car, there is an unusually loud crash from the well-digger's rig. BILL (loud) What's going on over there? JIM (same) That's Mr. Tesander. He's digging our well. BILL (same) Well? What happened to the trout stream, with that pure, clear, cold mountain water? JIM (same) I decided against it -- There is a sudden cessation of the steam shovel and complete silence. Jim, unaware of it, continues to shout. JIM The trout stream -- (reacts; quietly) didn't seem practical. MURIEL It wasn't exactly a decision, dear. (to Bill) We discovered the trout stream dries up in August and the rest of the year it's polluted. JIM (defensively; groping) Well, anyway, I'd rather have artesian water. It's healthier. Calcium -- vitamins -- artesian -- BILL (indicating) What's wrong with that steam shovel? They look off. WHAT THEY SEE. A CLUSTER OF WORKMEN WHAT THEY SEE. A cluster of workmen have gathered around Mr. Zucca, the driver of the steam shovel, who is swearing in voluble but undistinguishable Italian. JIM, MURIEL AND BILL. Jim, Muriel and Bill. JIM Better take a look. He starts off for the steam shovel, nimbly jumping over a drainage trench. Muriel starts to follow, pauses, unable to negotiate the trench. MURIEL Jim! Jim turns in time to see Bill pick Muriel up and carry her across the trench. As he sets her down: MURIEL (sarcastic; to Jim) Thank you, dear. Jim frowns, annoyed. They approach the group around the shovel. JIM What's the matter, Mr. Zucca? Something wrong? ZUCCA How do you lika that? Broka my bucket. Two times this week I broka my bucket? JIM What did you do, strike a boulder? ZUCCA (darkly) Atsa no boulder, atsa ledge. JIM (weakly) What does that mean? ZUCCA Meansa we gotta blast! JIM Blast? ZUCCA Blast. Witha dynamite. JIM What do you mean, dynamite? MURIEL (a little annoyed) What do you mean, "What do you mean?" Mr. Zucca just explained. He's going to use dynamite and blast until he gets rid of the rock. ZUCCA Atsa no rock, atsa ledge. BILL What Mr. Blandings means is -- what precisely is a ledge? ZUCCA Ledge. Lika bigga stone, only a- bigger. JIM Like a boulder? ZUCCA No, like ledge. Jim looks at Muriel and Bill. BILL ...Like a ledge. ZUCCA But you don't gotta worry. Only cost twenty-four cents a cubic foot, plussa dynamite an'a fuse. JIM But how far will you have to blast? ZUCCA Harda tell. Might be a lilla baby ledge -- mighta run the whole

scans

How many times the word 'scans' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

each

How many times the word 'each' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

told

How many times the word 'told' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

royals

How many times the word 'royals' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

drive

How many times the word 'drive' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

winged

How many times the word 'winged' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

thought

How many times the word 'thought' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

finally

How many times the word 'finally' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

facets

How many times the word 'facets' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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How many times the word 'high' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

skedaddle

How many times the word 'skedaddle' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

softly

How many times the word 'softly' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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How many times the word 'laughs' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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How many times the word 'nonsense' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

prayer

How many times the word 'prayer' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

int

How many times the word 'int' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

gradually

How many times the word 'gradually' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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How many times the word 'things' appears in the text?

BOB BRAGAN, in his catching gear, passing by with pitchers RALPH BRANCA and KIRBY HIGBE. Higbe asides to Bragan: HIGBE Why don't they just put him on a watermelon truck? BRANCA What's the matter with you guys? BRAGAN Not a thing, Branca, but we ain't just two pretty faces either. CUT TO: 30 EXT. GREYHOUND STATION - DAYTONA BEACH - SUNSET 30 Wendell Smith stands waiting as a BUS pulls in. The big air brakes hiss. The doors open and the PASSENGERS disembark. First a DOZEN WHITE FACES, then a DOZEN BLACK. Last but not least, Rachel and Jack. They look exhausted. SMITH Jackie Robinson... Mr. Rickey sent me to meet you. Wendell Smith. Pittsburgh Courier. I'm going to be your Boswell. BLUE REV 4-07-12 24. JACK My who? SMITH Your chronicler, your advance man. Hell, even your chauffeur. (tips his hat) Mrs. Robinson. RACHEL It's Rachel. SMITH Man, you two look wiped out. JACK (SHARP) You got a car? Get us out of here. CUT AHEAD TO: 31 EXT. SMITH'S BUICK (PARKED) - DAY 31 Jack and Smith carry the luggage. Smith's excited being around Jack even if he is grumpy. As Smith unlocks the Buick, Rachel considers a segregated pair of water fountains. SMITH You ever been down South before, Rachel? RACHEL First time. We have our problems in Pasadena, but not like this. SMITH Mr. Rickey says we follow the law. If Jim Crow and the state of Florida say Negroes do this and that, then we do this and that. RACHEL (SOFTLY) My life's changing right in front of me. Who I am, who I think I am. CUT TO: 32 EXT. THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 32 Black neighborhood. The Buick stops at a nice looking house. SMITH Joe and Duff Harris live here. He gets out the black vote, does a lot of good for colored folks. (MORE) YELLOW REV 4-24-12 25. SMITH (CONT'D) Mr. Rickey set it up himself. (IMITATES RICKEY) If we can't put the Robinsons in the hotels, they should stay some- place that represents something. Jack and Rachel exchange a look, the place seems nice. SMITH Brooklyn plays downtown; Montreal a few blocks from here. You'll stay with the Harrises except for a few days at the end of the week. The whole Dodger organization is going to Sanford, about 45 minute away. You'll stay here though, Rachel. RACHEL Where are the other wives staying? SMITH There are no other wives. You're the only one Mr. Rickey allowed to spring training. As the HARRISES step out on the porch, wave hello... CUT TO: 33 INT. STAIRWAY - THE HARRIS HOUSE - DAY 33 MRS. HARRIS leads Jack and Rachel up the stairs to a door at the top. Mrs. Harris opens it. MRS. HARRIS I call this the love nest. I hope you like it. RACHEL I'm sure. Thank you. As Jack enters, Mrs. Harris starts back down. MRS. HARRIS Dinner's at five. Rachel enters, closes the door behind her -- 34 LOVE NEST 34 -- And accidentally knocks Jack onto the bed. She lands on top of him. The room is impossibly small. It barely holds their luggage and the BED they're on. As they look around: JACK It's a joke, right? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26. RACHEL I like it. The love nest. She kisses him. He's starting to like it, too. RACHEL Remind me dinner's at five. JACK I'll try to remember... As the kisses become more urgent... CUT TO: A35 INT. SMITH'S BUICK - DAYTONA TRAINING FACILITY - DAY A35 Smith pulls up alongside the team buses, looks across at Jack who is just a little nervous. SMITH The first day of Spring Training. My Pittsburgh Courier readers need to know how it feels. JACK It's okay. SMITH That's not exactly a headline. JACK (BRUSQUE) That's all I got. SMITH Look, Jack, right now it's just me asking you. But you get on that field and it's going to be the New York Times and the Sporting News. You should think about it. JACK If they ask something, I'll answer. SMITH Alright, but you know when you're at the plate, you want to feel like you see the pitch come in slow? Well, you want to see the questions come in slow, too. Jack just looks at him. Gets out. Smith sighs. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 26A. 35 EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGERS DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 35 As PLAYERS (Brooklyn, St. Paul & Montreal) warm up, practice, Rickey sits on the bench, angry as he reads a NEWSPAPER. Harold Parrott hurries over, something urgent on his mind. Rickey on a rant; Parrott can't get a word in. RICKEY Listen to this, Harold. Whenever I hear a white man - yours truly - broadcasting what a Moses he is to the Negro race, then I know the latter needs a bodyguard. (Parrott tries to INTERJECT) It is those of the carpetbagger stripe of the white race - me again - who under the guise of helping, in truth are using the Negro for their own selfish interest, thereby retarding the race! Parrott tries to interrupt again, but Rickey is furious. RICKEY The minor league commissioner of baseball said that! I pay part of his salary! You wouldn't stab me in the back like this, would you? PARROTT (FINALLY) He's here, Mr. Rickey. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27. RICKEY Why didn't you say so?! 36 PLAYING FIELD 36 Jack crossing toward them in his Montreal Monarchs uniform carrying a glove and a bat. 200 white players clocking him. He's surrounded by REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS. It's the cue for most of the batting and fielding and chatter among the Dodgers, Royals and Saints to come to a stop. Higbe forgets Bragan is throwing him a ball. It clocks him in the chest. Reese and Stanky passing a medicine ball. REESE That's him, huh? STANKY Take a wild guess. Flash bulbs go off in Jack's face. Questions like punches. Shouts of Jackie' and then... REPORTER ONE Jackie, do you think you can make it with these white boys? Jack looks off to where Smith watches, back to the reporter. See the questions slow. He answers with measure. JACK Sure, I had no problem with white men in the service or at UCLA. REPORTER TWO What'll you do if one of these pitchers throws at your head? JACK (thinks a beat) I'll duck. That gets some laughs. REPORTER THREE Jack, what's your natural position? ROBINSON I've been playing shortstop. REPORTER THREE Are you after Pee Wee Reese's job? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 27A. Jack looks over to where Reese watches with Stanky. JACK Reese plays for Brooklyn. I'm worried about making Montreal. REPORTER ONE Is this about politics? JACK It's about getting paid. Jack doing beautifully. Smith breathes a sigh of relief... YELLOW REV 4-24-12 28. MANAGER CLAY HOPPER In a Montreal uniform, Hopper's too old to be a ballplayer. He stands with Dixie Walker the Dodger right fielder. HOPPER (MISSISSIPPI TWANG) Well, when Mr. Rickey picks one, he sure picks a black one. WALKER He's fine with me, so long as you keep him up in Montreal. HOPPER Here comes the old man to save him. They watch as Rickey pulls Jack from the press. He leads Jack directly toward Hopper. As Walker excuses himself... WALKER Good luck, Hop... RICKEY Clay, I'd like you to meet Jackie Robinson. Jackie, Clay Hopper, manager of the Montreal Royals. Hopper shakes his hand as they exchange greetings. HOPPER We ain't doing much today. Just throwing the ball around and hitting a few. Why don't you toss a few with those fellas over there? (CALLS OVER) Hey, Jorgensen! A kid in a Montreal uniform looks over. SPIDER JORGENSEN. HOPPER Meet Jackie Robinson. CUT TO: 37 EXT. PARKING LOT - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 37 The end of the day. Buses leave by team, the Dodgers and the farm clubs. White faces look down as they pass a tired Jack, who walks through the lot toward Wendell Smith and his Buick. Higbe and Bragan call out from the door of the Dodger bus. HIGBE Hey, Rook! Did you hear about the redneck shortstop? GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 29. BRAGAN He thought the last two words of the National Anthem were Play Ball! Jack forces a smile, but the joke comes off a bit harsh. And they seem like they're laughing at him as... HIGBE How about the shortstop making all the errors, tried to kill himself by jumping out on the highway? BRAGAN A bus just missed him. Drove right between his legs! As the bus passes by, Jack sees the impassive faces of Dixie Walker, Reiser, Stanky, Pee Wee Reese and finally 20-year-old Branca. Branca smiles, offers an awkward little wave. SMITH Between his legs, good one. He must've read a joke book. If he can read. Jack just gets in the car. Smith sighs, drum rolls the hood of the Buick. SMITH Hi, Wendell, how are you...? Well, looks like I got a long drive to Sanford. CUT TO: 38 EXT. PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - LATE AFTERNOON 38 MR. BROCK comes out the screen door carrying a tray of tall drinks. He sets them on a table, watches and waits as Smith and Jack get out of the Buick, start up the steps. MR. BROCK Jackie, I'm Ray Brock. Welcome to Sanford Florida! The day belongs to decent minded people. They shake hands. Brock looks to Smith, obviously knows him. MR. BROCK Wendell, good to see you. (TO JACK) My wife's inside cooking. You know what she asked me this morning? She asked me, what do you serve when a hero's coming for dinner? WHITE 3-14-12 30. Jack's humble, embarrassed, doesn't know what to say. JACK I'm just a ballplayer, Mr. Brock. MR. BROCK Tell that to all the little colored boys playing baseball in Florida today. You're a hero to them. The look on Jack's face says that's a heavy burden. MR. BROCK (CONT'D) Sit down, have something to drink. My special rum and coke. JACK No thank you, sir, I don't drink. MR. BROCK A ballplayer who doesn't drink? That's a new one on me. SMITH I'll have one. I'm a stereotypical reporter through and through. JACK Mr. Brock, do you have a desk? I'd like to get a letter to my wife. MR. BROCK Of course, this way. As Mr. Brock leads Jack ahead, Smith sips his drink. CUT TO: 39 EXT. PRACTICE DIAMOND - SANFORD - DAY 39 Rickey and Montreal manager Hopper stand by the dugout watching a spring game versus St Paul. Jack's playing second. They watch him closely as they talk. HOPPER He's getting by on a quick release, but his arm's too weak for short. Second base is his spot. RICKEY I agree. And I'll state another obvious, Clay, I need the players to act like gentlemen around him. HOPPER Uh huh. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 31. The MAN on first takes a lead. RICKEY To treat him as they would any other teammate. HOPPER Uh huh. RICKEY To be natural, to impose no restrictions on themselves. To all work together in harmony. WHACK! The hit & run is on. The man on first runs on the pitch as a LOW LINE DRIVE shoots for the gap between 1st and 2nd. Robinson turns himself inside out to dive on his belly and catch it before it hits the ground. He spins himself around, pivots on a knee to throw the runner out before he can get back to first. Rickey is astounded. RICKEY That was superhuman. HOPPER (CHUCKLING) Superhuman? Don't get carried away, Mr. Rickey, that's still a Nigger out there. Rickey takes a moment to process. It's Hopper's light admonishing tone that really halts him. Finally... RICKEY Clay, I realize that attitude is part of your heritage; that you practically nursed race prejudice at your mother's breast, so I will let it pass. But I will add this: you can manage Robinson fairly and correctly or you can be unemployed. They both look over as Jack comes off the field toward them. HOPPER Attaboy, Jackie! Way to turn two! CUT TO: 40 EXT. FRONT PORCH - THE BROCK HOUSE - SANFORD - NIGHT 40 Smith and Mr. Brock are sitting on the porch sipping rum and cokes. A quiet evening. DBL. BLUE REV 7-9-12 32. MR. BROCK I hope Jackie sleeps alright. Chasing baseballs in the sun all day, I'd be in my grave. How are they treating him out there? They watch as a CAR slows, parks across the street. SMITH Okay as far as I can see. A MIDDLE-AGED WHITE MAN, LUTHER exits the car and starts toward them. MR. BROCK (FROWNS) You find good people every place you go. Even here in Florida... LUTHER (STOPPING BELOW) Is he in there? SMITH Who is it you're looking for? LUTHER Nigra ball player. The air suddenly alive with danger. SMITH He's asleep. Maybe you better come back in the morning. LUTHER I ain't comin' back. Other fellas is comin'. They ain't too happy about him stayin' here in Sanford. Playin' ball with white boys. (a long beat) Skedaddle, that's what I'd do. If'n they get here, and he's still here, there's gonna be trouble. He turns and walks away. As they watch, a phone rings... RICKEY'S VOICE Yes, Wendell, what is it? CUT TO: 41 INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAYTONA BEACH - NIGHT 41 Rickey in his pajamas in his hotel room. On the phone. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 33. RICKEY I see... Yes, I understand. Wake him up and get him out of there. Put him in the car and start driving for Daytona Beach. Now. And, Wendell, under no circumstance tell him what this is about. I do not want him to get it in his head to stay there and fight. CUT TO: 42 INT. BEDROOM - MR. BROCK'S HOUSE - NIGHT 42 Half dressed, Jack sits on the edge of his bed, feeling bad. Through his open door, across a hall, we can see Smith in his room. Passing in and out of view packing his own things. JACK I was just getting loose. Smith sticks his head in the door. SMITH Don't just sit there. Pack your duds. We're blowin'. A phone RINGS somewhere. They hear Brock answer, then: MR. BROCK'S VOICE Wendell?! Smith leaves the room. Hold on Jack, despair as he listens. SMITH'S VOICE Yes, Mr. Rickey, I'm with him now... We're pulling out for Daytona in five minutes, soon as he gets his bag packed... Yes, yes, it's just one of those things. One of those things.' As Jack's head hangs a little lower. CUT TO: 43 INT./EXT. BUICK - MAIN STREET - SANFORD - NIGHT 43 The street deserted, sidewalks rolled up. Jack angry and silent in the passenger seat. Smith jumpy behind the wheel. They stop as a PICK-UP stops ahead outside a BAR where: A DOZEN WHITE MEN in shirtsleeves exchange words with the boys in the truck. To Jack it looks like a typical small town bull session. To Smith it looks like something else. GOLDENROD REV 5-9-12 34. The white men look over at the two black men. One steps over, motions: roll down the window. JACK I wonder what he wants? SMITH To run us out of town. JACK What are you talking about? The man close now. As Jack cranks down the window, Smith floors it. The Buick SCREECHES away, SWERVING around a CAR coming the other way. JACK What the hell, Wendell?! SMITH Man came by while you were asleep. (CHECKS MIRROR) Told us more men were coming. Maybe those boys. Mr. Rickey said to get you to Daytona Beach a-s-a-p. JACK Why didn't you say so? SMITH Mr. Rickey was afraid you wouldn't leave, that you would fight. As it becomes clear, Jack starts to LAUGH. SMITH What the hell are you laughing at? JACK I thought you woke me because I was cut from the team. Jack LAUGHS harder. Wendell LAUGHS as well. As it fades, Jack looks back over his shoulder. Jesus... CUT TO: 44 EXT. CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAYTONA BEACH - DAY 44 A stadium SIGN boasts Brooklyn Dodgers vs. Montreal Royals. PINK REV 4-19-12 35. Daytona Beach's black community is turning out to see Jackie Robinson. Hundreds of people line up, mass at the: Colored Entrance. In their Sunday best. Families. Couples. The old. The frail. Young boys chase after each other. One MOTHER stands on her toes to spot her son. MOTHER Ed! You stay where I can see you! 13-year old ED CHARLES turns, waves his baseball glove over his head so she can see him. Then to no one in particular: ED I'm thirteen years old. WHITE PEOPLE enter at several gates around them. CUT TO: 45 CLOSE ON BRANCH RICKEY - THE DODGER DUGOUT 45 He sits watching as the segregated bleachers in right fill with BLACK FANS. All else is white. Rickey pops a PEANUT in his mouth, confides to someone alongside him we don't see. RICKEY I've spoken to the mayor. I've explained how much money we'll spend in Daytona. But still, when this fine young Negro man steps on that field today, he and the Dodgers will technically be breaking the law. A law which says white and black players cannot enjoy the same field at the same time. Does that make sense to you? Does Jim Crow make any sense when placed against the words of the United States Constitution? When placed against the word of God? POP OUT to reveal he sits beside the DODGER BATBOY, so short his feet don't touch the ground. Rickey offers his peanut bag. As the batboy takes one... RICKEY I'll tell you, it does not make sense to me. CUT TO: 46 OMITTED 46 PINK REV 4-19-12 36. 47 OMITTED 47 48 OMITTED 48 49 EXT. ON DECK CIRCLE - CITY ISLAND BALLPARK - DAY 49 Jack swinging two bats to get loose. Watches as the Montreal BATTER hits a LINE DRIVE which -- Pee Wee Reese nearly leaps out of his socks to bring down. Wow... As the CROWD claps in appreciation, Jack takes a deep breath. PA ANNOUNCER Now batting the second baseman -- Jackie Robinson! Jack wincing as he steps forward to both cheers and boos from the white sections. As a go home, coon' drifts over -- A BIG OVATION from the black section in right drowns it out. COLORED SECTION - RIGHT FIELD Rachel sits with Smith. They react to some of the INVECTIVE coming from the white section. RACHEL Jack's got a thick skin. He'll be okay. SMITH How about you? RACHEL (SHRUGS) I better get one in a hurry. INFIELD Higbe watching from the mound as Jack steps into the batter's box. Two well wishing voices from the infield stands. SPECTATOR ONE Come on, black boy, you can make the grade! SPECTATOR TWO They're giving you a chance! Do something about it! Jack heartened at the words. Concentrates as Higbe's first pitch is fired. High and tight, Jack jerks out of the way. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 37. Bragan, behind the plate, chucks the ball back, grins up at Jack who does not look down at him as he settles back in. ED CHARLES The 13-year-old holding his hands together in prayer. ED Please, God, let Jackie show them what we can do. HOME PLATE Here comes the next pitch. Even tighter. Jack nearly hit. UMPIRE Ball two! Jack glaring, crowds the plate more. Bragan shows 1, taps his right thigh signalling outside. Jack watches it sail, doesn't bite. The umpire: Ball Three! Higbe's fun slipping away as he can't find the strike zone. HIGBE Come on, Rook! Ain't you gonna swing at something?! Jack takes a practice swing, waits as Bragan sets up right over the plate. Here comes the pitch. Low. Ball four! RACHEL & SMITH A big, over-reacting CHEER from the Colored section. SMITH It's just a walk. RACHEL Who can blame them? HIGBE Looks ill-tempered over to first where Jack gives the same look back as he sidesteps an enormous, defiant lead off the bag. Higbe incredulous. Did he just do that? DUROCHER (FROM DUGOUT) Well throw over there for crying out loud! Higbe fires to LAVAGETTO at first. Jack dives back in time. YELLOW REV 4-24-12 38. Higbe gets the ball back, settles. Jack takes a lead, but a modest one this time. Here come the pitch -- And Jack goes. You knew he was fast; but not this fast. Bragan's throw to Pee Wee is late and high. Pee Wee throws back to Higbe. Higbe sets. Bragan gives him a sign. Jack takes a lead. On the wind-up, Jack goes. Bragan stands -- it's a PITCH OUT. Bragan fires to third and Jack is caught in a RUN DOWN. It seems like half the team gets involved with Higbe finally getting the ball by third and Jack ducking under the tag. Safe! A BUZZ goes through the stadium now as people start to realize they are not watching something or someone ordinary. RICKEY Watching from a seat behind third. RICKEY Thataway, Jackie! Thataway! HIGBE & JACK Higbe looks home for the sign, Jack dancing off third, pounding his right foot toward home. He feints hard home. Higbe steps off the rubber. Jack stays where he is. HIGBE Hell! You're supposed to go back to third when I step off! Don't you know nothing?! He throws over. Jack back to the bag. Higbe gets the ball back, looks in. Jack bouncing, pounding off third. His movements carry violence within them. Like a piston exploding in an engine. Higbe into his motion, stops his delivery, accidentally drops the ball to the ground. The umpire signals BALK, points Jack home. Higbe is furious. ED CHARLES - IN THE COLORED SECTION CHEERING, joyous. His mother joins in, happy despite... MOTHER I don't understand. What happened? ED It's a balk, Mama. The pitcher can't start toward home and then stop. Jackie scores. GREEN REV 4-27-12 39. MOTHER But he didn't do anything. ED Oh, mama, yes he did, he discombobulated the man. DUGOUT Durocher looks to Branca, impressed. DUROCHER He didn't come to play; he came to kill. Durocher starts out to the mound to talk to Higbe. DIXIE WALKER Watching from right field, the black crowd still cheering. He walks over toward the open bullpen where Casey stands. WALKER This really how it's gonna be some day? Baseball? CUT TO: 50 EXT. SCOREBOARD - BALLFIELD - DAY 50 Montreal vs. Indianapolis. THE STANDS are half filled. The COLORED SECTION is packed solid, accentuated by the many empty seats in the sections on either side of it. INSERT: De Land, Florida. No score, top of the first as -- Jack drops a BUNT down the line. The FIRST BASEMAN fields, throw to the SECOND BASEMAN covering. Too late. Only Jack doesn't stop. Realizing the SHORTSTOP isn't covering the bag, Jack bolts for second. The second baseman has to wait on the throw and when he makes it -- The UMPIRE signals safe. A bunt double! Spider Jorgensen settles in the batter's box. The pitch. Crack, Jorgensen laces a single to left. Jack motors to third where Sukeforth is WAVING him home. We're with him at hip level as he tears down the basepath. The CATCHER bracing for the throw - they COLLIDE - he's SAFE! As Jack gets to his feet, however, a Jim Crow POLICEMAN steps up to meet him, grabs him by the shoulder. POLICEMAN Git offa this field now! WHITE 3-14-12 40. JACK What!? Why? POLICEMAN It's against the law is why. No niggers don't play with no white boys. Git off or go to jail. Jack shrugs the policeman's hand off his shoulder. That sends him reaching for his nightstick and -- Sukeforth is there to get between them. JACK You swing that thing you better hit me between the eyes with it. POLICEMAN Is that so? The CROWD BOOING. The black section especially. HOPPER (arrives from dugout) Hey, hold on, what'd he do wrong? POLICEMAN We ain't havin' Nigras mix with white boys in this town. Ya'll ain't up-states now; they gotta stay separate. Brooklyn Dodgers ain't changing our way of living. Where are you all from anyhow? HOPPER Greenwood, Mississippi. POLICEMAN Hell, man, you oughta know better. (a dangerous beat) Now tell your Nigra I said to git. You think I'm foolin'? Hopper looks desperately to Jack who just stands there. RACHEL'S VOICE What did you do? CUT TO: 51 EXT. STREET - DAYTONA BEACH - HARRIS NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY 51 Jack and Rachel out walking. He's been telling the story. PINK REV 4-19-12 41. JACK I said okay, Skipper, tell him... Ah'm a-gittin'. Sho'nuff, ah is. RACHEL You didn't? JACK I did. Then I took a long shower. We lost 2 to 1. She takes a few exaggerated steps to amuse him. RACHEL Ah'm a-gittin', ah'm a gittin'. He laughs, takes her hand. He's going to kiss her. JACK You're not getting away from me. RACHEL (LOOKING PAST) Jack... A white man bee-lines them from across the street, looks like a real CRACKER. Jack on guard, gets in front of Rachel. JACK Get back, Rae. Go back. Cracker stops square across from him. Jack's fists balled. CRACKER I want you to know something. JACK Yeah, what's that? CRACKER I want you to know I'm pulling for you to make good. And a lot of folks here feel the same way. If a man's got the goods, he deserves a fair chance. That's all. (tips his hat) Ma'am. As Cracker walks away... Rachel takes Jack's hand. CUT TO: 52 OMITTED 52 YELLOW REV 4-24-12 41A. 52A EXT. PLAYING FIELD - DODGER DAYTONA FACILITY - DAY 52A Rickey leans against his car watching a GROUNDSKEEPER push mow the infield grass. Jack, in street clothes, joins him. JACK You wanted to see me, Mr. Rickey? Rickey nods, consider the field a moment. RICKEY Bermuda grass grows so well here. I wish we could get it to grow like this in Brooklyn. JACK I like the way it smells when they mow it. PINK REV 4-19-12 42. RICKEY Me, too. Rickey consider the field a moment, then Jack. RICKEY Jackie, it's my pleasure to tell you that you've earned a spot on the Montreal Royals. When they head north Tuesday for opening day against Jersey City, you'll be on the train. Jack trying to hold down his excitement. JACK I won't let you down. RICKEY I know that. JACK If you don't mind, I've got to go tell my wife. RICKEY Give her my regards. Jack about to head off when he looks back.. JACK Why are you doing this, Mr. Rickey? RICKEY I'm an opportunist. With you and the Negro players I hope to bring up next year I'll put together a team that can win the World Series. And the World Series means money. Jack studies him a beat, not quite buying it. RICKEY Don't you believe that? JACK I don't think what I believe is important. Only what I do. RICKEY Agreed. Therefore, run the bases like the Devil himself. (MORE) GREEN REV 4-27-12 43. RICKEY (CONT'D) Worry those pitchers so they come apart. Sometimes they'll catch you, but don't worry about that. Ty Cobb got caught plenty. Just run as you see fit. Put the natural fear of God into them. CUT TO: 53 EXT. DAYTONA BEACH TRAIN STATION - DAY 53 Ed Charles and his TWO FRIENDS follow Jack and the Montreal PLAYERS as they walk toward the TRAIN waiting on the tracks. Jack is one of the last to board. He's almost through the door when something stops him. He looks back at Ed. A beat. Ed slowly raises his hand and waves. Jack smiles, does the same, then disappears inside. The WHISTLE blows and the train starts out of the station. On impulse Ed starts to trot out after it. Staying close. His friends follow. TRAIN TRACKS The train picks up speed. The boys start to run. Arms pumping, feet flying. One boy drops off. Then the other. But Ed still runs. Chasing after that train carrying Jackie Robinson. Finally, he stops, heaving for breath, watching the train disappear around the bend. A lonely beat. Then -- Ed gets down on his hands and knees. He sets his ear on the rail, closes his eyes. A thrum comes off the rail. A huge smile spreads. He straightens, shouts back to his friends: ED I CAN STILL HEAR HIM! From somewhere, as the National Anthem ends... CUT TO: 54 EXT. ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 54 INSERT: April 18, 1946 - Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City. Opening day of the International League Season. A COLOR GUARD march away to REVEAL: HOME PLATE UMPIRE PLAY BALL! 30,000 FANS pack a stadium built for 24,500. Bunting and flags everywhere. 1000s of black fans are here (segregated only financially in New Jersey). CUT TO: WHITE 3-14-12 44. 55 EXT. HOME PLATE - ROOSEVELT STADIUM - DAY 55 Jack steps up to some BOOING, but much more APPLAUSE. He looks ready to beat the world. INSERT: First inning. CROWD VOICE Come on, Jackie, this fella can't pitch! Speaking of the pitch, here it comes. Jack tops a WEAK GROUNDER to short. As he's thrown out by a mile... 56 WENDELL SMITH & RACHEL 56 Sitting up off third. His knees knocked together to hold his TYPEWRITER on his lap. Nothing to write about there. He looks over at Rachel who puts her hand over her mouth. SMITH You okay? RACHEL I think I might be sick. (STANDING) Excuse me, Wendell. He watches as she starts out, looks to the field. SMITH I'd be sick at a swing like that, too. CUT TO: 57 INT.

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

glowing

How many times the word 'glowing' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

tries

How many times the word 'tries' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

weeks

How many times the word 'weeks' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

taller

How many times the word 'taller' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

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Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

mothers

How many times the word 'mothers' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

morning

How many times the word 'morning' appears in the text?

Back-up Plan, The Script at IMSDb. var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-3785444-3']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })(); The Internet Movie Script Database (IMSDb) The web's largest movie script resource! Search IMSDb Alphabetical # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Genre Action Adventure Animation Comedy Crime Drama Family Fantasy Film-Noir Horror Musical Mystery Romance Sci-Fi Short Thriller War Western Sponsor TV Transcripts Futurama Seinfeld South Park Stargate SG-1 Lost The 4400 International French scripts Movie Software Rip from DVD Rip Blu-Ray Latest Comments Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith10/10 Star Wars: The Force Awakens10/10 Batman Begins9/10 Collateral10/10 Jackie Brown8/10 Movie Chat Message Yell ! ALL SCRIPTS THE BACK-UP PLAN Written by Kate Angelo August 30th, 2007 INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY We're not exactly sure where we are. And we're not exactly sure who's talking. All we know is that we are looking at a foot. One bare foot with chipped red polish. ZOE (V.O.) I can't believe I didn't get a pedicure for this. How embarrassing. Look at that... The toes open and then curl down as if trying to hide. ZOE (V.O.)(CONT'D) What's wrong with me? If I were with a real guy doing this, I would've gotten a pedicure. And a wax. I'm pathetic. The CAMERA PANS to the other foot, which is also chipped. ZOE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Fuck, that one's even worse. And when did my toes get so fat? No wonder I'm alone. I'm a fat-toed animal. Zoe lets out a sigh. She speaks out-loud now. ZOE (CONT'D) Sorry I didn't get a pedicure. DR. HARRIS What? DR. HARRIS (mid-fifties, jovial) looks up from between Zoe's knees, the light on his head flashing right in Zoe's eyes. ZOE My toes...sorry. DR. HARRIS I'm not looking at your toes. ZOE Right. Duh. Dr. Harris stands and takes off his gloves. DR. HARRIS All done. 2. ZOE That's it? And now, for the first time, we see ZOE. Despite the paper gown and worried look on her face, she's a late-30-something, girl-next-door type. She could be your best friend. DR. HARRIS I'll elevate your legs for ten minutes and then you're good to go. He sets a kitchen timer and then pushes a button to raise her legs. We hear the loud TICK TOCK of the timer. ZOE This is the first time I've heard that ticking clock sound and it doesn't freak me out. DR. HARRIS Good. Just relax. ZOE I can't, I'm totally freaking out. DR. HARRIS Everything's going to be great. I have a feeling you and... (checks empty syringe) Number CRM-101404 are going to make beautiful babies together. Zoe smiles. Maybe he's right. Yeah...of course he's right. BOBBY (V.O.) Number CRM-101404? Are you high? INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY TITLE UP: FOUR WEEKS AGO BOBBY, 39 (but says he's 33,) gay and gorgeous, opens a file and points to a piece of paper. BOBBY Says here he has red hair and freckles. ZOE And glasses, too. BOBBY And why are we picking him? 3. ZOE Because he's honest. BOBBY He's ugly. Zoe points to a stack of potential donors. ZOE You think they're all telling the truth? If they're so smart and good looking, why are they beating off into a cup? BOBBY Have you ever fucked a guy with red hair and freckles? ZOE No, and I won't have to. BOBBY But what about your kid? No one's going to want to fuck your kid. (beat) That came out wrong. ZOE Yeah...it's a good thing you're not going to be the father. INT. WAVERLY INN - NIGHT TITLE UP: EIGHT WEEKS AGO Bobby spits out a mouthful of Sauvignon Blanc. BOBBY What? I can't be the father! ZOE Come on, we don't have to have sex. BOBBY Oh, Jesus, I didn't even think about that. Rewind, rewind, rewind... ZOE You're one of my best friends. Don't you want to help me? 4. BOBBY Yeah, but...that's too much. I'll walk your dog, tell you when you look fat, be honest about your eyebrows... ZOE Just a few sperm. Big deal. You waste billions of them every night. BOBBY You know I flee at the slightest chance of intimacy. Do you see these bags under my eyes? Ricardo slept over last night, and he wanted to hold me. I actually had to fake a seizure. ZOE Forget it. Forget the whole thing. Zoe sighs and puts her head in her hands. MONA (V.O.) Forget the whole thing. It's just a phase... INT. MONA'S APARTMENT - NIGHT TITLE UP: TWELVE WEEKS AGO. Zoe and MONA, Zoe's age but looks much older, sit at the kitchen table. MONA You don't want kids. Trust me. ZOE Easy for you to say. You have four. MONA Yeah, and it's awful. Three CHILDREN run through the kitchen yelling and screaming. A beat later, a TODDLER runs after them crying. MONA (CONT'D) They've ruined my life. ZOE Come on... 5. MONA Have you seen my vagina? Zoe shakes her head. MONA (CONT'D) Do you want to? Zoe shakes her head again. MONA (CONT'D) I would do that for you. To prove to you that you don't want to have kids, I will show you my vagina. ZOE I don't want to see your vagina. I want a baby. My own baby. MONA Is it possible you're just a little lonely? You know, you haven't met the right guy and-- ZOE It's not about a guy. I don't need a guy. I don't even think I want a guy at this point. I've dated a hundred guys in the last five years, and not one of them is even close to being the one. How long am I supposed to wait? MONA You never know. He could be right around the corner. ZOE Well, then he's late. And I hate people who are late. And what if he's not right around the corner? What if he's miles away? Zoe shakes her head. She becomes very serious. ZOE (CONT'D) I want to have a baby. And time is running out. I hear a clock ticking every time I close my eyes. I need it to stop. We hear a loud DING. 6. INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY Zoe opens her eyes. We're back in the exam room. She looks at the timer, which just hit zero. She smiles. ZOE Ding. Then a tear forms in the corner of her eye. She wipes it away. She wipes a tear from the other eye. Happy tears. Then she looks at her legs high above her on the table. ZOE (CONT'D) How the fuck am I supposed to get down from here? INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE HALLWAY - LATER Zoe walks down the hall with her legs pressed firmly together, moving only from the knees down. Dr. Harris passes. DR. HARRIS You don't have to walk like that. ZOE Oh. Okay. Zoe separates her legs an inch. And then closes them. ZOE (CONT'D) Should we hug? We might have just made a baby together. INT. WAITING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER Zoe walks through the waiting room with her legs still pressed together. She sees two PREGNANT WOMAN, touches her own stomach and smiles. She finally feels part of this exclusive baby club. ZOE Hi. PREGNANT WOMEN Hi. INT. ELEVATOR - DAY Zoe enters the elevator where there is a WOMAN holding a BABY. Zoe smiles at them. Another member of the club... 7. ZOE Hi. WOMAN Hi. The elevator descends. Zoe continues to stare at the baby with a big smile. She stares for an uncomfortably long time. WOMAN (CONT'D) You're starting to freak me out. ZOE Sorry. Zoe looks down. After a beat, she sneaks another look. WOMAN Stop it. EXT. MADISON AVENUE - DAY It's POURING outside. The kind of rain that turns umbrellas inside out. NEW YORKERS run for cover with newspapers over their heads. Despite the rain, Zoe skips out of the building with her hands in the air and twirls around. Realizing that she's spread her legs too far apart, she snaps them back together. A WOMAN pushing a baby stroller covered in plastic runs by. ZOE Hi! Zoe looks uptown for a cab. Nope. Nothing. She starts to walk, still keeping her legs firmly pressed together. She rounds the corner towards the subway station and then, miraculously, spies a cab. ZOE (CONT'D) Taxi! She runs (little steps) across the street. INT. TAXI - MOMENTS LATER Zoe closes the door behind her. ZOE Hallelujah! 8. As soon as the word comes out of her mouth, she notices someone entering the cab from the other side. This is STAN, early 40s, but looks more like a college kid -- faded jeans, t-shirt, cute, messy hair. ZOE (CONT'D) Uh...excuse me. This is my cab. STAN You own it? ZOE No, but I'm about to rent it. STAN Actually, if we're being technical, you kind of stole it. ZOE I don't think so. STAN If you see someone about to get in a cab, you can't just run in from the other side and say it's yours. ZOE I didn't see you. STAN I saw you see me. ZOE (to the cabbie) Sir, who saw you first? The CABBIE picks up his paper and starts to read. STAN Maybe you're not from around here, but there's a code. It's like war, even though it's brutal and bloody, there are still certain rules we-- ZOE Fine. Forget it. I'll get out. Zoe grabs the door handle and then turns back. ZOE (CONT'D) But not because you're right, but because I am in a terrific mood, and you are ruining it. 9. STAN No. I'll get out. They each get out. EXT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS Zoe and Stan stand on opposite sides of the taxi in the POURING RAIN. Zoe crosses her arms. ZOE Now what? STAN I don't know. You tell me. That question is answered by the cabbie, who now peels out. ZOE What? Where's he going?! (waving her hands, then) Come back! They both stand there with a taxi's width between them. ZOE (CONT'D) Well, that was stupid. Why'd you get out, you, stupid-head? STAN You said you were in a great mood and I was ruining it. I felt bad. (then) Did you just call me stupid-head? Zoe storms off with her little steps. INT. 68TH STREET SUBWAY STATION - DAY Stan and Zoe each swipe their Metrocards at the same time. They enter the subway platform which is jam packed with all the other NEW YORKERS who are shit-out-of-luck in the cab department. Rain droplets drip from the ceiling above. ZOE Oh, man... STAN How's your great mood now? 10. INT. 6 TRAIN - DAY A packed subway car. Zoe and Stan are back-to-back, pushed together by the crowd. Zoe tries to read her paper. STAN How `bout now? ZOE Please stop talking to me. INT. UNION SQUARE SUBWAY STATION - DAY Zoe and Stan walk up the stairs a few feet apart from each other. Zoe does her best to ignore the obvious. STAN So, why are you in such a good mood anyway? They reach the top of the stairs. The rain has stopped, and the sun is just starting to peek through. Everything is wet and has a magical quality. ZOE Not that it's any of your business, but...good things are happening to me. Stan is moved by this. What a thing to say. STAN That's nice. I hope it continues. ZOE Thanks. Well, have a nice life. Try not to steal any more cabs. STAN You do the same. They nod and separate. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Hudson Pets is a small but quaint West Village pet store filled with dogs, cats and a few rabbits. Zoe enters. Her dog, NUTS, a raggedy, pug-like dog with hind legs in a WHEELCHAIR, bounds/wheels towards her, barking. 11. ZOE Hey, Nutsy. How's it going? She gives Nuts a good scratch. JALISA, mid-30s, Latina hottie, and Bobby run from the back. BOBBY Oh, my God, you're glowing. (to Jalisa) She's glowing, right? JALISA Glowing. Tell us everything. BOBBY Everything. ZOE There's not much to tell. BOBBY You just got shot up with a wad of red-headed-freckle sperm. There's something to tell. JALISA He had red hair and freckles? BOBBY I tried to talk her out of it. JALISA Why'd you do that, Mami? BOBBY (to Jalisa) I know, right? JALISA Red pubes. Eek... ZOE I'm never going to see his pubes! BOBBY You'll see your kid's pubes. ZOE I doubt it. BOBBY But you'll know they're there. 12. ZOE What is wrong with you? JALISA So, what happened? Come on... ZOE I lay down, put my feet up, five minutes later it was over. I barely felt a thing. BOBBY Sounds like Ricardo. JALISA Tell me about it, Papi. Bobby and Jalisa high five. Bobby then turns to Zoe. BOBBY So...what happens now? ZOE Now, we wait. BOBBY That's no fun, I want to know if I'm going to be a fairy godmother. ZOE We'll just have to wait and see. Zoe smiles and heads for the back. EXT. HUDSON PETS - NIGHT The lights in the pet store go dark. Moments later, Zoe, Bobby, Jalisa and Nuts exit. BOBBY Come on, Zoe, one drink. You can have an O'Dhouls or something. JALISA We'll go to the piano bar and get Bobby to sing some Ace of Base. BOBBY Forget it, she's not coming. I can tell by the dull look on her face. ZOE Love you. 13. They all hug. Bobby and Jalisa walk away arm-in-arm, singing. BOBBY/JALISA I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes, I saw the sign... Zoe turns to lock up. While her back is turned, Stan appears from the shadows. STAN Hi. ZOE Aahhh! Zoe screams and drops the keys. Nuts, overexcited by Zoe's reaction, starts to run/wheel in circles and then tips over. ZOE (CONT'D) You scared the hell out of me! STAN Oh, wow. Is he...okay? Nuts is still on the ground, his wheels spinning. Zoe sets him upright. ZOE What are you doing here? STAN I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Or hurt your dog. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker. ZOE How'd you know I worked here? STAN I followed you after the subway. (thinks, then) That sounds a little stalkery, huh? ZOE Yeah. STAN I just really wanted to see you again. Almost like I had to see you again. Can I walk you home? (then) Is it me or does everything I say make me sound more like a stalker? 14. Zoe allows a small smile. STAN (CONT'D) Can I just give you my card? Here. Take my card. I'm not a freak. Really. I sell cheese. This hangs out there for a beat. ZOE Cheese? STAN Yeah. My family has a goat farm. We make cheese. You like cheese? ZOE I guess. I've never really thought about it. STAN Little Goat. Maybe you've seen us at the Farmer's market? Come by sometime and you can taste my cheese. (then) Okay, I'm going to go. This has not gone as planned. Stan smiles meekly and then turns to go. ZOE Bye. Stan lifts his hand to wave but doesn't even turn around. Clearly, he feels like an idiot. Zoe watches him go. EXT. WEST VILLAGE BROWNSTONE - MORNING Establishing shot of a cute brownstone with window boxes and a front stoop. We TILT UP to the third floor window. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - MORNING Zoe is asleep with the morning sun on her face. Nuts is beside her, his two little, lame legs hanging off the pillow. Zoe opens her eyes. After a beat, she gets up and walks to the mirror. She lifts up her pajama top and looks at her stomach, sticking it out as far as it will go. It's flat as a board. 15. INT. CAROL'S APARTMENT - DAY Seven WOMEN sit around the cramped living room of this small, East Village apartment. At least one woman is nursing a child that looks entirely too old to still be nursing. This is the SINGLE MOTHERS BY CHOICE Support Group. CAROL, 40's, short hair, tank top and no bra, is the leader. CAROL Everyone, please say hello to Zoe. EVERYONE Hi, Zoe. CAROL Welcome to Single Mother's By Choice. As the name suggests, we are all single mothers by choice. Some of us have adopted, some conceived with a donor, every story is different, but with the same common denominator. We wanted to have a child, and we didn't need a partner to make it happen. The women smile and nod. They are a proud, no-nonsense, somewhat masculine bunch. LORI, pregnant with a buzz cut, turns to Zoe. LORI Are you a doer or a tryer? ZOE Excuse me? LORI Are you already a single mother or are you trying to become one? ZOE Oh, I guess I'm trying. I was just inseminated a few days ago. (then) Inseminated...makes me feel like a cow or something. CAROL Well, when we don't have partners with penises, we do what we've got to do, right? (then) So, tell us a little bit about yourself. 16. ZOE Okay. Let's see...um, I own a pet store on Hudson Street. Dogs, cats, rabbits...no birds, they creep me out. Before that, I worked for Google, which I completely hated. One day, I decided life was too short, and, against my accountant's advice, I quit Google, cashed out and bought the pet store. Now I'm really happy on the work front, but I still haven't found, you know, the one. CAROL Ah, yes. The elusive "one." ZOE I always imagined I'd be married with kids by now, but it doesn't look like it's going to happen that way. So, time for Plan B. CAROL Society tells us we're supposed to find that special person to make us happy and complete. But guess what...you have to create your own happiness. You don't need someone to complete you, some...man. You already are complete. LORI Amen, sister. CAROL If you want to have a baby, we here at Single Mothers By Choice can be your partners. We will be your emotional rocks. Zoe looks around at her new "partners." There's SARA, the one nursing the toddler. And TABITHA, a tall women with an even taller afro and a nose ring. BRIDGET, a young girl covered in tatoos. And several more... CAROL (CONT'D) From inception to college graduation and everything in between. We're here for each other. Sara smiles and nods at her nursing child. 17. SARA Dakota was actually born right here in this very room. Right where you're sitting, actually. ZOE (uncomfortable) Really? Right here? Imagine that. SARA Best day of my life. ZOE And how old is she now? Dakota looks up from the breast. DAKOTA I'm three. INT. LE PAIN QUOTIDIEN - DAY Zoe and Mona are sitting by the window sharing a plate of pastries and a pot of coffee. MONA Why did you join a support group of unattractive, militant lesbians when you have me? ZOE Because you're really not that supportive. MONA Sure I am. ZOE You just told me that if I breast- feed "my girls" will end up looking like empty tube socks. MONA I'm just being honest. And don't even get me started on what childbirth does to your bladder. ZOE What does it do to your bladder? Mona cracks up and then stops abruptly. 18. MONA I just peed a little bit. ZOE I don't think I'm pregnant. The doctor says it will probably take several tries. Something about frozen sperm being lazy. MONA Good. Take your time. Zoe takes a sip of coffee and looks out the window. ZOE So, should I call this guy? Do you think that would be weird? MONA Do I think it's weird that you're pursuing someone at the exact moment in time that you might be most unavailable? No. Because that's what you do. You sabotage. ZOE (ignoring her) He works at the Farmer's market. And it's right around the corner. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? MONA I look fat and old? ZOE No. MONA Then, no. ZOE Let's go spy on him. Come on. It will be fun. Like high school. MONA I can't. (checks watch) This twenty minute breakfast concludes my "me" time for the week. More proof that you should not have kids. 19. EXT. FARMER'S MARKET - DAY The Farmer's Market is crowded with people. We hear the sounds of a bluegrass band playing somewhere nearby. Zoe spies the LITTLE GOAT sign. But Stan is not there. She looks around the neighboring stalls for him, but no luck. ZOE Oh, well. She walks towards 14th street. We see the bluegrass band on the steps by the subway station. It's not a big band, just a few guys with an open banjo case and a sign that reads, "The Organics." The country twang of the music is in sharp contrast with the tall buildings all around. As she gets closer, she notices that Stan is in the band. He's playing banjo. Zoe quickly ducks into the nearest food stall, OLIVIA'S BERRIES. OLIVIA, mid-twenties, natural beauty, approaches. OLIVIA Can I help you? ZOE (distracted) No, I'm fine. Zoe watches Stan. She mindlessly starts eating some blueberries out of the display pint. Olivia sees that Zoe is looking at Stan. OLIVIA Tasty, huh? Zoe nods and takes another berry. OLIVIA (CONT'D) All ripe and juicy. And firm, too. Bet you could just eat him up in one bite, right? Zoe now turns, confused. ZOE What? OLIVIA And don't look now, but he's coming this way. 20. Olivia winks and moves off. Zoe turns back and is now face- to-face with Stan, who's smiling from ear-to-ear, his banjo slung over his shoulder. STAN A-ha! I didn't scare you away after all. ZOE (trying to be casual) I was just in the neighborhood. I thought I'd come by and get some blueberries. I'm going to make a pie. STAN I love blueberry pie. Stan takes two pints of blueberries and hands them to Zoe. ZOE I'm confused. I thought you made cheese or something. STAN What makes you think I don't? ZOE I don't know, you're over there playing the banjo. STAN Can't someone do both? ZOE Honestly, I didn't know anyone did either. Olivia returns. OLIVIA Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend? STAN Nope. (to Zoe) Come on. Let me show you around. Stan puts his arm around Zoe and leads her away. Olivia watches them go with her arms crossed. 21. EXT. THE LITTLE GOAT CHEESE STAND - LATER Stan walks Zoe through his cheese stand. STAN This is our basic chevre, probably our best seller. The cheese that started it all, as they say. Then over here we have our surface- ripened cheeses. These are the aged/raw milk cheeses. (realizing) This is really boring, huh? ZOE No, not at all. STAN It's like you're in a foreign country and the only thing to watch on tv is a documentary on cheese. You don't want to watch it, but somehow you can't stop... ZOE (laughing) I think it's interesting. Really. STAN All right, you asked for it... (boring voice) The aged/raw milk cheeses are made from raw milk and then aged for four to six months. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Usually more. Depends on the cheese. FRED Stop. You're killing me. FRED, early twenties, white guy with Rasta-type dreads, looks up from behind the counter. STAN Fred, Zoe, Zoe, Fred. (then) She's the one I followed from the subway the other day like a total psychopath. FRED Right...I heard about you. 22. ZOE I don't know whether to be flattered or terrified. FRED Be afraid. STAN Don't scare her away. I'm trying to redeem myself. FRED Then you should put down the banjo. You look like a doofus. STAN Doofus? (then, to Zoe) Do you think I look like a doofus? ZOE I don't really know what a doofus looks like. Fred points to Stan. STAN Okay. If I put the banjo down, can I take you to lunch or something? ZOE I should really get back to work. STAN Come on, say the word and we can have a six-course tasting menu at Union Square Cafe. I know the chef. ZOE That sounds nice, but, I should probably go. STAN Well, can I call you? Zoe smiles. INT. HUDSON PETS - DAY Zoe enters the pet store with two big bags of vegetables. As soon as she steps foot in the store, Bobby and Jalisa accost her. 23. BOBBY Okay, spill it. JALISA Who is he? What does he do? How do we know him? ZOE What are you talking about? JALISA Stan from the Farmer's Market? He's called twice already. ZOE Really? BOBBY Is he a farmer? Because that's not okay. ZOE No. He makes cheese. BOBBY He's a pilgrim? ZOE I don't know what he is. He's cute and different and plays the banjo. (then) I think I like him. BOBBY What about the, you know, bun in the oven? ZOE I really doubt I'm pregnant. JALISA You want to be pregnant. You don't want to be pregnant. I'm confused. ZOE I want to be pregnant. Of course I want to be pregnant. I mean, I put a lot of thought into this, right? (then) So what did Stan say? BOBBY He says to name any restaurant you want to go to. (MORE) 24. BOBBY (CONT'D) He'll be there with bells on. (then) He didn't say the "bells on" part. I added that. Sounds a little too gay, though, so I take it back. EXT. 8TH STREET - NIGHT Zoe walks down 8th street. This is the first time we've seen her really pulled together, and she looks hot. She turns into the restaurant she's chosen for the big date. INT. GRAY'S PAPAYA HOT DOGS - NIGHT Zoe and Stan stand at the counter with an array of hot dogs in front of them. Stan looks at the hot dogs skeptically. STAN We could have gone anywhere. ZOE Just take a bite. You'll see. STAN Per Se, Jean Georges, Nobu... ZOE Gray's Papaya. Cheers. She clinks his dog and then they each take a bite. ZOE (CONT'D) Good, right? Stan nods, covering his mouth because the bite is so big. ZOE (CONT'D) You've lived here your whole life and never been to Gray's Papaya. What's wrong with you? STAN I actually haven't lived here my whole life. We moved out of the city when my parents bought the farm....not died, but actually bought a farm and moved upstate. ZOE That must have been a nice place to grow up. On a farm. 25. STAN What about your family? ZOE It's just me and my grandmother. She lives in a retirement community in Queens. (an awkward beat) My parents died when I was young. STAN I'm so sorry. There is a long silence. They both stare at the hot dogs. STAN (CONT'D) I don't know what to say now. I've made it all awkward and sad. ZOE It's okay. (then) My dad was kind of a bad guy, anyway. STAN Shit. I'm so sorry, Zoe. ZOE No, come on, we'll get all this stuff out of the way so we never have to talk about it again. Let's ask all the awkward, get-to-know- you questions right now. STAN Okay. Good idea. ZOE Let's see...are you religious? STAN Nope. What about you? ZOE No. STAN Have you ever been married? ZOE No. 26. STAN Aren't you sick of going to weddings? ZOE If I have to listen to one more couple write their own vows... STAN I hate when they write their own vows! They clasp hands. Not in a high-fivey way, but in a connected, we have so much in common way. Their hands stay together, feeling the charge between them. STAN (CONT'D) What about kids? Zoe feels the blood rush to her cheeks. Like everyone there must now be looking at her. ZOE What about them? STAN Well, do you want them? ZOE Yeah. I want kids. She pulls her hand away. This has all gotten suddenly real. She looks at Stan, almost afraid to ask the next question. ZOE (CONT'D) Do you? STAN Yeah. Absolutely. Zoe nods. Slowly, she starts to breathe again. EXT. PERRY STREET - NIGHT They are now walking home together, arm-in-arm. ZOE Okay, first kiss... STAN Jen Salzer. Seventh grade. She wore a head-gear. What about you? 27. ZOE Summer camp. I think his name was-- Stan interrupts by kissing her. And it's a great kiss. Full of promises and answers. They linger there for a moment... ZOE (CONT'D) That was way better. STAN When can I see you again? Zoe feels her heart jump. She kisses him again. INT. ZOE'S APARTMENT - DAY Zoe is lying in bed with Nuts on the pillow next to her. The sun is shining and they are both waking up. She gets up and goes to the mirror. She lifts up her nightgown and looks at her stomach, this time with a slight look of concern on her face. INT. EQUINOX - DAY Zoe and Mona are side-by-side on the elliptical machines. Zoe is going very fast, while Mona is barely moving at all. ZOE What if I'm pregnant? MONA Then you'll get fat and hormonal and I'll say, "I told you so." ZOE But what if this could go somewhere with Stan? Like, really go somewhere. MONA Then it will work out perfectly. ZOE

sperm

How many times the word 'sperm' appears in the text?