CUT TO
THE APARTMENT. Middle of the night. CLIMBER jerks awake, rubs his eyes, get out of bed.
CUT TO
THE OTHER BEDROOM. As before. SHIRLEY is dead to the world, PHOEBE reads. Now she looks up as her father comes in. He sits on the bed and they whisper.
CLIMBER
Phoebes, you've gotta sleep sometime.
(he puts the book down, turns out her light)
It's the one thing we worry about most.
PHOEBE
Who?
CLIMBER
You know who.
PHOEBE
I wonder, how did you and Mommy meet?
(THE CLIMBER says nothing)
I've always wondered why you never told me.
(he sighs)
Did someone think you'd like each other and you had bologna sandwiches?
CLIMBER
(here we go)
It was on a case.
PHOEBE
Did you solve it?
CLIMBER
It worked out.
PHOEBE
You probably don't remember the very very first time you ever saw her.
CLIMBER hesitates. He doesn't like going back to these great days. But here's his problem, Doctor: it's the only way she'll go to sleep.
CLIMBER
Actually, I do.
FLASHCUT
The moment when he takes the blindfold off ECHO and he sees her perfect face.
BACK TO THE ROOM
PHOEBE
I wonder was she in a ball gown or something that first time?
CLIMBER
Exactly right--a beautiful ball gown. Huge billowing skirt. I was in my tux--
PHOEBE
(staring at him)
You dove through that window in a tuxedo and a ball gown?--I don't think so.
FLASHCUT
THE JUMP OUT THE WINDOW--only this is in PHOEBE'S mind--CLIMBER, looking magnificent, and ECHO, the same--all but dancing in slow motion toward the window as TWENTY BAD GUYS with machine guns and bazookas blast away in vain.
BACK TO THE ROOM.
CLIMBER
You want the whole deal, don't you?
(she does)
Close your eyes.
(she does)
Deep breath.
(that too--just a glimmer of sleep now)
PHOEBE
(softer)
Start with climbing up the building.
CLIMBER
Okay.
PHOEBE
(softer)
That was very brave of you, Daddy.
CLIMBER
Or very stupid.
PHOEBE
(almost gone now)
This was the Big A, wasn't it?
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER, studying her Edward G. Robinson face.
She's drifting.
He nods.
HOLD.
CUT TO
A LONG ISLAND COUNTRY LANE. The next afternoon. CLIMBER'S car, motor running, is at the side of the road. He holds his children tightly. They hold him back.
CLIMBER
Okay, Loves.
(they hold him just a second longer, then flop over into the backseat)
Put your rich faces on.
CUT TO
SHIRLEY AND PHOEBE as they change before our eyes, become the spoiled perfect kids we first saw in the mansion.
CLIMBER (CONT'D)
Gimme the damn Bartok.
(as SHIRLEY slips a CD from its case--)
CUT TO
ECHO, standing on the front steps as CLIMBER'S car drives up, stops, waving. The kids, inside the car, wave happily back. Standing alongside ECHO is her fiance, a very handsome, tanned man of forty--HAMILTON KEMPNER THE THIRD, universally known as TRIP. A well-educated rich man's son, if he seems familiar to us at all it might be because, in the photographs we saw during the credit sequence, this is the guy THE CLIMBER punched out.
CUT TO
THE CAR and the instant it stops, the kids are out of there, hurrying to ECHO. They talk quickly, whispered tones.
SHIRLEY
(he holds the wicker basket, which is empty now)
Oh, Mommy, it seems like forever, do thank cook for the wondrous food.
PHOEBE
Mommy, I just know I'm going to be sick next Friday.
ECHO
How was the Bartok?
SHIRLEY
No other word but "thrilling."
PHOEBE
And we made "him" play it all the way home.
ECHO
Your father hated it, then?
SHIRLEY
Sheer agony.
ECHO
(cannot hide her pleasure)
Well, now you're learning what I had to put up with.
SHIRLEY
Can we go inside?
ECHO
Don't you want to say hello to Trip?
CUT TO
TRIP as they run to him, PHOEBE curtsies perfectly, SHIRLEY looks him in the eye, gives him a firm handshake.
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER, watching silently now as they race toward the front door.
CUT TO
ECHO. Calling out to them.
ECHO
Where are our manners?
CUT TO
THE KIDS. They give their mother a pained look, turn toward CLIMBER, speak in unison.
THE KIDS (TOGETHER)
(like pulling teeth)
Thanks, Dad, see you next week, Dad, bye Dad.
(and they are gone)
CUT TO
TRIP, as he goes to CLIMBER. They don't even bother to hide the fact that they despise each other.
Long pause, then--
TRIP
I wonder what your secret is.
(beat)
To make them so unhappy...
(and as he smiles)
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER. Not smiling back...
HOLD ON THE TWO OF THEM. Then--
CUT TO
SHIRLEY'S ROOM, the following Saturday afternoon. PHOEBE is with him and they are both dressed so perfectly you want to throw up.
ECHO (OVER)
Children--your father's here.
PHOEBE
(the most amazing whining you ever heard)
But my pneumonia's just so bad, Mommy--
(a dry cough)
--hear that?--
SHIRLEY
(even more so)
--it's not fair, it's just not fair--
As they go on in, one thing is very much clear--
--their eyes are dancing...
CUT TO
OUT FRONT. CLIMBER, smiles nervously as the kids come reluctantly into view. He opens the front door for them.
CLIMBER
Plenty of room up here.
They ignore him, get in the back.
ECHO
(handing over an envelope)
The Joyce Theater, three p.m.
CLIMBER
(hopefully)
Nothing to do with sports, I suppose.
ECHO
It's their annual Kabuki Marathon.
(his knees start to buckle)
The children are very excited, do not spoil it for them.
(a CD)
Kabuki music for the drive.
CLIMBER
(taking it)
All my prayers are being answered.
ECHO
And in keeping with our educational theme for the weekend, miso soup, bean sprouts salad, squid and octopus sushi, their favorite sashimi, sea urchin, giant clam, and salmon roe.
(hands the basket to him)
Be careful with that.
CLIMBER
Before it attacks me, you mean?
ECHO
(ignoring him)
I meant, refrigerate it at once.
(he nods, takes it, starts around the car as we)
CUT TO
PHOEBE, bursting out of the car, running back
to her mother, clinging to ECHO. ECHO escorts her back, puts her in the car. CLIMBER starts to drive as we
CUT TO
INSIDE THE CAR as THE KIDS kneel in the backseat, waving to their disappearing mother.
CUT TO
THE THREE OF THEM IN THE FRONT SEAT NOW, on the side road where they stop. They are finishing their embrace.
PHOEBE
(to the CLIMBER)
Did you like that last bit? Where I rush out and cling to Mommy?
CLIMBER
Over the top, Phoebes.
SHIRLEY
(agreeing)
I told her.
CLIMBER
Where did "bit" come from? Is that another of good old Trip's favorites?
CUT TO
PHOEBE. She doesn't answer. An odd look now on her face. She is watching another car that has just driven by. CLIMBER does the same.
PHOEBE
Were they here last week?
CUT TO
THE CAR. Old. Absolutely nondescript--except for the fact that the windows are tinted. Hard to tell who's inside.
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER. Shrugs, shakes his head, starts to drive--he breaks into horrible Kabuki sounds as we--
CUT TO
THE JOYCE THEATER.
Before the matinee. People mill around out front--a whole lot of them Japanese.
CLIMBER pulls up to the curb--
--standing apart from the others is the family who took his tickets last time--THE GUY sees CLIMBER, starts to him.
CUT TO
INSIDE THE CAR. CLIMBER has the tickets in his hand, is about to hand them over when we suddenly--
CUT TO
PHOEBE, as quick tears cover her face.
PHOEBE
(heartbroken)
I was just so ready to start my career--
--now SHIRLEY sees why she's crying, has to fight back tears himself. CLIMBER follows their eyes and we
CUT TO
HAMILTON KEMPNER THE THIRD, otherwise known as TRIP--
--standing alone under the marquee, looking around, ticket in his hand.
CUT TO
CLIMBER--TRIP hasn't spotted them yet--but he quickly looks out at the APPROACHING MAN, shakes his head sharply--"Sorry"--the other guy gets it immediately, takes his kids' hands, peels off as CLIMBER turns to his children--
CLIMBER
(tougher than shit)
I am ashamed, and when I tell my pop, he will turn his head away in despair. Someday, someday, when the Big A comes along--and you never know when--you have to be ready--but not you two--you'll just suck your rich thumbs and wait for the butler to save you.
(and on that)
CUT TO
TRIP, as THE KIDS run up behind him, pulling at him happily. CLIMBER, looking miserable, waits a few feet away, holding two Kabuki programs.
TRIP
Just thought I'd surprise you.
SHIRLEY
Yesss.
PHOEBE
Can you take us to dinner and then home?
TRIP
Love to, but business, you know.
(they look sad)
See you at intermission.
CUT TO
PHOEBE AND SHIRLEY, taking their seats in the theater. They wave to TRIP, who is seated across the theater. CLIMBER sits between them. A sea of Asian faces.
The house lights dim.
SHIRLEY
(head down, whispered)
The bastard.
PHOEBE
He was snooping, wasn't he, Daddy?
CLIMBER
(nods)
But all in vain.
SHIRLEY
Why?
Now it's dark in the theater.
CLIMBER
(beat)
Because our job is tonight.
(and on that news--)
CUT TO
THE KIDS. Their eyes are dancing again.
CUT TO
THE CURTAIN rising.
CUT TO
THE STAGE, as suddenly the stylized Kabuki stuff starts. Applause from the aficionados.
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER. A silent groan.
CUT TO
PHOEBE. They lean close. SHIRLEY whispers to her.
SHIRLEY
(indicating the dancing)
Poor Daddy.
PHOEBE
(whispering so soft)
Daddy?
(he looks at her)
I promise I'll never suck my rich thumb ever again.
HOLD ON THE FAMILY. Then--
CUT TO
A STREET IN THE VILLAGE. One hot mother of a night.
Busy, lots of Italian restaurants from before pasta cost 25 bucks a plate.
Busy but not chic. There are a couple of bodegas along the block. The occasional housewife goes in for provisions. More frequently, the neighborhood drunks stagger out with six-packs.
CUT TO
We are looking through the window at kind of a dump called Salerno. Red-checked tablecloths. Pretty much empty. An OLD DRUNK sits nodding at the bar.
A COUPLE are eating alone in the rear by the restrooms--we have seen them before. THE CRYING WOMAN WITH THE LARGE SUNGLASSES. THE GUILTY-SEEMING MAN.
They both seem happier now. A few papers are spread out on the table between them. She still wears her huge sunglasses but is not crying anymore. And he does not seem particularly guilty.
CUT TO
THE SIDEWALK IN FRONT. A sketch artist has set up shop in front. "Five bucks," his cardboard sign says. No one pays him much mind. Business is slow.
CUT TO
ACROSS THE STREET AND THE CLIMBER, deep in conversation with another man--we've seen him before too--he's the guy who gets their matinee tickets--only now he is working and we see he is a police sergeant.
CLIMBER
(on edge)
Thanking you in advance for sticking around, Bertie.
POLICE SERGEANT
For what I owe you, forget it.
(looking around)
What you got going?
CLIMBER
My kids are working the case with me.
(and on that)
CUT TO
THE POLICE SERGEANT. And if you thought he might laugh, you couldn't be more wrong--
POLICE SERGEANT
You bastard.
(he can't help it, slugs CLIMBER on the arm, looks at him with envy and admiration)
How great is that?--shit, my kids have zero interest in cop work. It's Wall Street for them all the way.
(looking around now)
Where they stashed?
CLIMBER
The sketch artist, he's mine.
CUT TO
THE STREET. A bodega is next to Salerno. A bunch of drunks come out, see the SERGEANT, straighten up, walk on past the SKETCH ARTIST. A little blind girl with a white cane passes them, tapping along.
POLICE SERGEANT
(calling out)
Young lady, you should be at home.
(the blind girl nods, hurries on)
CLIMBER
(proud)
She can only practice her cane work when her mother's out.
POLICE SERGEANT
(wow)
That's the little one I see in the car? Looks like Edward G. Robinson?
(CLIMBER nods)
CUT TO
PHOEBE, moving expertly with her cane.
CUT TO
CLIMBER AND THE SERGEANT, watching. THE SERGEANT shakes his head.
POLICE SERGEANT
I would kill to be you tonight.
CLIMBER
(thank you)
They put in the hours.
POLICE SERGEANT
I'll be around somewhere.
(and as he starts off)
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER. A soft whistle.
CUT TO
THE BLIND GIRL. Stops, comes to him.
CLOSE UP
PHOEBE. The vacant look, the head
just a bit tilted, she's got it all.
CLIMBER is seated on a stoop now, half in shadow. PHOEBE stops beside him, never looks at him.
CLIMBER
They're at the back table--
(she knows this)
--Pop thinks they're heading someplace we can't nail down. See what you can do.
(OK with her)
Give me one minute to get into position.
(and on that)
CUT TO
THE SKETCH ARTIST, sitting with his notepad on the sidewalk by the restaurant. An empty folding chair alongside.
CLIMBER
(sits)
What do I get for five bucks?
SHIRLEY
(handing over his pad)
See for yourself.
CUT TO
THE NOTEPAD as CLIMBER flips through. The work, of course, is brilliant.
We see a drawing of a sweet mother and child.
Next page--the front of the restaurant, the clock over the bar clear to see.
Next page. 8:45 by the clock, and the WOMAN WITH SUNGLASSES pauses to open the door. Even here, she is furtive.
Next page. 9:02 by the clock. Here comes the GUILTY GUY.
Next page. 9:05. The couple is kissing at the rear of the restaurant.
CUT TO
CLIMBER. He nods, hands back the pad.
CLIMBER
Five bucks it is.
A TAPPING SOUND behind them. PHOEBE moves past.
Next door at the bodega, a couple of housewives jabber in Spanish on the sidewalk, a couple of flashily dressed drunks stagger in for more beer.
CUT TO
INSIDE THE SALERNO.
The owner, maitre d', whatever, looks up from his position by the door, an odd expression on his face.
MAITRE D'
Can I help you, Miss?
PHOEBE
(whispered)
I have to get home and I don't know if I can make it without a stop.
MAITRE D'
You want to use our ladies' room?
PHOEBE
Oh, that would be so kind of you.
THE GUY looks at her a moment.
MAITRE D'
This was from birth?
CUT TO
PHOEBE. Hmmm. She taps her cane a moment.
PHOEBE
A sickness.
(doesn't want to talk about it)
When I was three.
(sweetly)
I still remember what stars look like.
CUT TO
THE MAITRE D'. Who wouldn't be touched? Gestures.
MAITRE D'
Want me to take you back?
PHOEBE
I have to learn these things. But thank you.
CUT TO
CLIMBER AND SHIRLEY, watching as she makes it past the MAITRE D', starts toward the table in the rear.
SHIRLEY
(you can tell he's excited--calmly)
Turn your head.
(CLIMBER does as we)
CUT TO
THE COUPLE AT THE REAR TABLE. A BLIND KID is coming toward them but they are totally involved with each other.
Now we can tell what some of the papers spread out between them are: airplane tickets.
CUT TO
PHOEBE'S close to them--
--her cane ticks a chair, slips free, falls. She reaches out, uses their table for support, slowly gropes for the cane, picks it up, stands, moves on, and as she heads for the ladies' room--
CUT TO
THE CLIMBER. And he's been through a lot of shit these past years, but right now, you get the sense that it's almost, almost, been worth it--
--at least until the gunfire starts and suddenly
CUT TO
THE WINDOW OF THE BODEGA, shattering--
--from inside, screams--
--from inside, shouts of rage and shock--
Which Lie Did I Tell?: More Adventures in the Screen Trade Page 34