Uncommon Type

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Uncommon Type Page 23

by Tom Hanks


  PHIL

  Talent like I never seen!

  BEA

  Every time you play I find myself all misty. You have a gift, Jesus.

  JESUS

  You make me feel so good, Mr. Phil and Mrs. Bea. You have always made me feel I was at home.

  BEA

  That’s because you have been, Jesus. You’ve been at our home.

  PHIL

  Good luck there in Chesterton. I hear they get benefits galore at that windshield factory.

  JESUS

  Thank you. I will come back to see you many times. I promise I will.

  BEA

  Bring us a windshield you made yourself.

  Jesus climbs in, and the pickup truck pulls out of the motel lot, honking. Phil and Bea watch the truck disappear down the road. They are quiet for a moment.

  PHIL

  There goes our only guest. One less bed to make.

  BEA

  Lord, am I going to miss him playing that ’cordine.

  PHIL

  Sixty-two less dollars a week. Why would anyone want to leave this little spot of paradise to live in a podunk burg like Chesterton…

  BEA

  Oh, stop serving crab apples. Do some weeding.

  Phil sizes up the woman he married. The woman he still finds so very beautiful…

  PHIL

  Don’t treat me like some hired hand.

  (then)

  Unless you wearing that pretty dress means you want to play Seduce the Hired Hand.

  BEA

  You go out there with the weedwacker and flex your rippling muscles, maybe I’ll get all heated up.

  PHIL

  Tell you what, woman. Give me twenty minutes to clear the south forty, then meet me in room 10. I just might be naked in the shower.

  BEA

  It’s a date.

  A Buick convertible is coming down the road, its turn signal blinking.

  BEA (CONT’D)

  Hold on. Looks like we have guests.

  PHIL

  Rats.

  (shouting)

  Come back in an hour, folks!

  The car pulls in to the motel. Hey, it’s none other than F.X.R. and Ms. Mercury! The top is still down.

  He is smiling. She looks like hell after driving three hours in a convertible with the top down. They pull right up to Phil and Bea.

  F.X.R.

  Howdy!

  PHIL

  Howdy-do?

  BEA

  Howdy-do to you.

  MS. MERCURY

  How-diddly-dee-dooty-do.

  F.X.R.

  (all “folksy”)

  As you can see, we happen to be weary travelers who have been on the road too long.

  MS. MERCURY

  With no sunblock.

  F.X.R.

  We seek a respite from our journey. You know—some real hospitality.

  BEA

  How about trying a motel of some kind?

  F.X.R.

  Know any good motels around?

  BEA

  Well, let’s think here. Motels. You need a motel…

  PHIL

  Best motel in the world is right here on the outskirts of Phrygia. Called the Olympic or the Olympian or something.

  F.X.R. looks at the faded sign.

  F.X.R.

  Motel Olympus!

  PHIL

  That’s the one.

  F.X.R.

  Ms. Mercury! Motel Olympus! This is fate!

  Ms. Mercury wants out of the car and into a shower ASAP.

  MS. MERCURY

  It must be. This parking lot screams destiny.

  BEA

  Welcome. I’m Bea. He’s Phil. Stay with us!

  These two adorable old folks immediately freeze in the positions of the sign behind them, complete with waving arms.

  F.X.R. and Ms. Mercury share a look. Phil and Bea have not moved. They are still frozen in their “sign” position. They remain so. For a beat. Then another.

  And another.

  MS. MERCURY

  So, do you have a vacancy?

  BEA

  (breaking her pose)

  Nothing but.

  CUT TO:

  INT. MOTEL OFFICE—SAME

  CLOSE ON:

  A faded photo from fifty years before—young Phil and Bea, in that same pose. Obviously the model for the sign back when it was constructed.

  The office is clean and cozy. F.X.R. inspects the photo as Bea prepares the paperwork.

  BEA

  If it seems like you have the place to yourself, you do.

  F.X.R.

  Business slow, is it?

  BEA

  Ever since Eisenhower built the interstates.

  F.X.R.

  That how long you’ve owned this place?

  BEA

  Not quite. But Phil and I have been here since Phrygia was a three-star stop with the Autoclub.

  She hands him a registration card and a cheap ballpoint pen.

  EXT. MOTEL OLYMPUS—SAME

  Ms. Mercury is parking the car. The engine is making lots of horrible noises. Phil comes up.

  PHIL

  I think the squirrels are dying.

  MS. MERCURY

  Three or four quarts of oil and the gnashing sound disappears.

  Smoke starts coming from under the hood.

  PHIL

  The woods are on fire!

  (then)

  Shut it down, honey.

  Did he just call Ms. Mercury “honey”?

  MS. MERCURY

  Okay, lamb chop.

  She shuts down the engine just as something EXPLODES. The motor stops, but the after-chug makes the car seem alive.

  PHIL

  This thing has a life of its own. Pop the hood!

  MS. MERCURY

  How exactly does one pop that?

  She finds a lever and pulls. The hood goes up, emitting a column of smoke.

  INT. MOTEL OFFICE—DAY

  F.X.R. sees the smoke as Bea inspects the registration card he’s filled out.

  BEA

  F.X.R?

  F.X.R.

  Present!

  BEA

  No credit card, huh?

  F.X.R.

  Lord no. Had one once. For a department store in Flint, Michigan. Ran up a tab, then had to split town.

  He never did any such thing.

  BEA

  We’ve seen some of that.

  (then)

  I’ll need cash. In advance, ’cause I don’t know you.

  F.X.R.

  How much?

  BEA

  Two rooms’ll be thirty-eight fifty.

  As he pulls out his western-style wallet, a prop he picked out himself.

  F.X.R.

  (worried)

  Oooohhh…

  BEA

  Or, one room with double beds—twenty-two fifty.

  F.X.R.

  (digging around in his wallet)

  That much, eh?

  BEA

  Single room, double bed, sixteen fifty.

  F.X.R.

  Turns out, I’ve only got…twelve dollars…and some change.

  BEA

  Well…we’ll give you the only-guests-in-the-motel special, then.

  EXT. MOTEL OLYMPUS—DAY

  Ms. Mercury leans over the hood of the car with Phil, who is monkeying around with a wrench.

  MS. MERCURY

  What do I know about cars? I just put gas in it and go.

  PHIL

  You’d think it’d be that easy, wouldn’t it?

  (he pulls out the oil pump)

  You know what this is?

  She looks at the part like it is a dead rat.

  MS. MERCURY

  A dead rat?

  PHIL

  This is a De-Hypoxified Fusion Accelerator with Calcitrant Oxyspoilers.

  MS. MERCURY

  Really?

  PHIL

  I can get you another. Just gotta make
a call to Tommy Boyer. He’ll run a rebuilt one out here soon as he can.

  MS. MERCURY

  Fine. Great.

  PHIL

  I can put it in for you so you’ll be on your way with the dawn.

  MS. MERCURY

  At dawn I’ll be in bed for another three hours, but you go ahead.

  A shout is heard.

  F.X.R. (O.C.)

  Ms. Mercury!

  Heads swivel. F.X.R is with Bea as she unlocks the door to one of the rooms.

  F.X.R. (CONT’D)

  Come and see our accommodations.

  INT. MOTEL ROOM—DAY

  Bea and Phil stand and watch as F.X.R. tests out the bed while Ms. Mercury inspects the bathroom.

  F.X.R.

  I hate to be a pest, but I have a bad disc from a fall I took chopping trees in Alberta.

  Ms. Mercury shoots him a look. He never did any such thing.

  F.X.R. (CONT’D)

  This mattress will kill me before it gets me to sleep.

  BEA

  (thinking)

  Doesn’t room three have a newer mattress?

  PHIL

  Only a few months old. I’ll change it, pronto.

  F.X.R.

  (feeling the sheets)

  And these, um, “sheets”? Way too scratchy. I have a skin condition.

  BEA

  I can break open a fresh set.

  F.X.R.

  Will they be washed? Nothing is worse than brand-new sheets.

  BEA

  Not even heart disease. I’ll soften them up for you.

  PHIL

  (concerned)

  Better try the pillows. Too firm won’t be any good for that back of yours.

  F.X.R.

  Too firm and I can’t move my neck in the morning.

  (he tries a pillow, grabs his neck)

  Ouch! No way!

  BEA

  We sleep with some good down models. We’ll put fresh cases on them and let you have them for the night.

  F.X.R.

  And, finally, this picture here over the bed.

  The one of a babbling brook and a farmhouse.

  F.X.R. (CONT’D)

  It reminds me of a foster home I once spent an eternity in. Do you have some other painting we could hang?

  Ms. Mercury mouths the words “foster home”?

  PHIL

  Room twelve has one with some ducks.

  F.X.R.

  I have a fear of waterfowl.

  PHIL

  There’s one with some wagon wheels on it in Eight.

  MS. MERCURY

  Wagon wheels? Why paint wagon wheels? I don’t understand.

  PHIL

  There’s a clown face in Room Thirteen.

  No way. The thought makes F.X.R. shudder.

  BEA

  How about we just remove all the artwork?

  F.X.R.

  Problem solved.

  CUT TO:

  INT. MOTEL ROOM—DAY

  Later. Phil is moving in a new mattress. Ms. Mercury is marveling at the softness of the bath towels, and Bea is putting pillowcases on the borrowed pillows.

  MS. MERCURY

  (completely amazed)

  What do you use to make this towel so soft? It’s like mink!

  BEA

  I just wash ’em, honey. Then I hang them out to dry.

  MS. MERCURY

  I can’t wait to take a shower!

  BEA

  When you do, let the hot water run. It takes a while.

  F.X.R.

  Okay. Last item. How does a soul get nourishment around here?

  PHIL

  Used to be a cafe right across the road. Truman’s, it was called. Great pie. Even better pot roast. Closed in 1991.

  BEA

  Fast-food places over in Chesterton. Thirty-six miles as the crow flies.

  PHIL

  I’d rather eat crow than fast food in Chesterton.

  MS. MERCURY

  Just as well. We’re stuck here. The car blew its oxyspoiler.

  PHIL

  (remembering, and bolting)

  I gotta call Tommy Boyer!

  As he leaves…

  MS. MERCURY

  Any chance of room service?

  BEA

  If you don’t mind getting your hands a little dirty.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. BACK OF MOTEL—LATER

  A mini-farm. Complete with henhouse and garden. Beautifully kept. Bea is expertly inspecting vegetables while Ms. Mercury tries to get tomatoes off a vine.

  MS. MERCURY

  (tossing into a basket)

  Okay. Tomatoes. Radishes. Those long green things. And half of my fingernails.

  BEA

  Wouldn’t avocados be perfect? I’ve got to plant some avocado trees.

  MS. MERCURY

  They grow on trees?

  BEA

  Yes. But you need two. One male tree and one female tree. Otherwise no avocados.

  MS. MERCURY

  The trees…have sex?

  BEA

  Once a week. Just like that old man and me.

  Bea LAUGHS. Even the chickens SQUAWK in jest.

  MS. MERCURY

  That is way too much information…

  CUT TO:

  EXT. POOL AREA—DUSK

  Phil has been preparing an old barbecue, where a scrawny chicken rotates on a spit. The pool, empty of water…

  F.X.R.

  So you never had kids?

  PHIL

  (shakes his head)

  Couldn’t. Didn’t mind though. Back in the old days this place was swarming with kids all the time. That’s ’cause of this swim pool. A dozen motels along Eighty-eight before the interstate cut us off. Only three had swim pools. I put up signs every twenty miles, saying, ‘Mount Olympus—Swim Pool.’ Guess where the kids demanded to stay?

  F.X.R.

  With Phil and Bea.

  PHIL

  You ever work in the hospitality business?

  F.X.R.

  Not legitimately.

  Phil gives him a look.

  PHIL

  It’s a line of work you can’t learn. Has to come natural. You have to like people and trust ’em. And lie a little when those with crazy eyes ask if there’s a vacancy. No shame in that. Wisdom.

  F.X.R.

  You must like the motel business.

  PHIL

  I like this motel. Could use a bit more business.

  MUSIC: “Last Date” by Floyd Cramer

  CUT TO:

  EXT. LANDSCAPE—SUNSET

  At the very moment the sun blinks out, gone, beyond the horizon.

  CUT TO:

  EXT. MOTEL OLYMPUS—THE WHOLE PLACE—NIGHT

  The sign is not lit up itself, but has only a cheap garden light shining up on it.

  Down by the pool we see that a picnic dinner has been enjoyed by the two innkeepers and their guests.

  PHIL

  Tell me something. How long you kids been together?

  MS. MERCURY

  What?

  PHIL

  You two. You an item?

  BEA

  Phil, whose business is that?

  MS. MERCURY

  (her eyes go wide!)

  Are we an item? An item? Item?

  PHIL

  A man and a woman drive up. In a car together.

  Check in together. Have a room together. It’s only happened about a million times…

  Ms. Mercury rolls her eyes. Then she shakes her head. Then she laughs to herself.

  MS. MERCURY

  (pointing to F.X.R.)

  This man could no sooner be my half of an “item” than I could fart toast.

  BEA

  Oh, I’m gonna steal that.

  F.X.R.

  As Ms. Mercury says, we have an employer-employee relationship that is proper in every way.

  MS. MERCURY

  If he isn’t sleeping on the couch, and he isn’t because
he’s never slept on a couch, I sure as hell am!

  PHIL

  Okay.

  (then)

  You a gay lesbian, Ms. Mercury?

  MS. MERCURY

  No, I’m not that fashionable. I’m just single.

  BEA

  No man in your life?

  MS. MERCURY

  Look…Let me explain this aspect of my life to two relative strangers, as nice as you are.

  (then)

  A man would complicate my life in the extreme. I need a man right now like your chicken coop needs a satellite dish. I am unattached, connected to no one. The day will come when I chuck it all and bid my boss adieu, and go for the mate, the kids, the hand-made Halloween costumes, all of it. Until then, I’m happily solo, working for this guy…

  (F.X.R.—who nods)

  Who drives me nuts but can take a joke. I’m making good bank and I see the world, from Tasmania to this lovely inn. I. Have no room. For a boyfriend.

  Things are silent for a beat.

  BEA

  Then there’s my answer.

  And another beat. The quiet is all-encompassing, beautiful.

  F.X.R.

  Listen to that.

  MS. MERCURY

  To what? I don’t hear anything.

  F.X.R.

  You’re not listening.

  MS. MERCURY

  I sure as hell am.

  BEA

  The quiet. He means listen to the quiet.

  MS. MERCURY

  Oh.

  (she does)

  I am really trying here…but I don’t hear anything.

  F.X.R.

  The only time I feel like this quiet makes me feel is…

  (whenever it is he keeps it to himself)

  And it never lasts.

  PHIL

  It does around here.

  BEA

  I’ve come to marvel in its totality. No matter the problems or worries, there’s solace in the quiet of the night.

  Phil looks at his wife. F.X.R. also looks at Bea. Ms. Mercury looks out into the night.

  MS. MERCURY

  Oh. I hear it now. Nothing. You mean the sound of nothing.

  (she listens)

  Ooh. Aah.

  A distant CAR HORN honks. Headlights appear, and a panel truck pulls into the motel lot.

  F.X.R.

  So much for that.

  BEA

  That’s Tommy Boyer.

  PHIL

  With that part for Bachelorette Number One’s car.

  (to Ms. Mercury)

  Since you’re not fashionable, you might like Tommy.

  MS. MERCURY

  (more eye rolling)

  Gosh, let me fix my hair…

  PHIL

  (calling)

  Tommy!

  From out of a truck comes TOMMY BOYER. He is the most gorgeous male creature on the planet Earth.

  MS. MERCURY

  That’s Tommy Boyer?

 

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