COUNTER CLERK (pointing to the wrong fish):
Este aqui.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
No, no. The one next to it, please.
The Clerk grabs a whole salmon.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Yes, yes that’s it.
The clerk weighs the fish on the scale, turns to wrap it up. Whole.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (making a cutting motion):
No, excuse me. Sir. I need it CUT. Filleted. Just one little piece.
The clerk continues wrapping up the fish.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (speaking a bit louder):
FILET! Filet. CUT. IN PIECES.
Everyone in the store is buying their fish whole. The Clerk doesn’t understand.
Frustrated. Alex turns around, raising his hands in the air.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Does anyone in here speak English?
Fellow shopper Grace (20), taps him on the shoulder.
GRACE (smiling, amused):
Maybe I can help.
Turning around, Alex’s finds a grinning Grace ... wearing a ‘Made in Portugal, Assembled in the USA’ T-shirt and shorts.
She knocks him off track for a second with her smiling eyes and sweet face.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
OH... Thank goodness, you speak English.
GRACE (to the Clerk, in Portuguese):
Ele quer ou peixe cortado, uma libra. Por favor, Senhor Amaral.
COUNTER CLERK (nodding):
Ahhh sim. Okay, Grace. Está bom.
GRACE (to Alex):
You’re all set.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
How? Thank you. Thank you so much.
GRACE:
Sure. No problem.
She smiles. Leaves. Alex stands there. Unknowingly smiling, looking at her as she walks down the street.
CUT TO:
89 INT. FATIMA AND EDDIE’S KITCHEN
Her back to the door, Fatima washes dishes at the sink. The door OPENS. SLAMS shut. She JUMPS.
Eddie’s trudging in, tearing open his bus driver uniform shirt, buttons popping off everywhere.
He rips it off and tosses the shirt across the kitchen floor.
FATIMA:
What’s wrong?
EDDIE
20 years. Not one fucking sick day off.
STUNNED. He throws himself into a chair.
EDDIE:
Boom. Just like that, we’re garbage on the street.
Fatima, wiping her wet hands on her apron.
FATIMA:
What happened, Eddie?
EDDIE:
Me, Mario and ten other guys. We just got laid off.
No notice. No nothin.’
(uncharacteristically tearing up)
And, and ... just like that, they took away my keys.
FATIMA (walking closer):
It’s gonna be okay. You’ll find another job.
(Eddie rubbed his eyes, trying to conceal his overwhelming loss)
EDDIE:
No. You don’t get it. That was MY BUS.
(a beat)
That job. It was the only thing I’ve ever been good at.
Eddie falls weeping against Fatima’s damp apron.
90 EXT. SPRING HILL CASKETS - CONTINUOUS
As Johnny and Fat Manny turn the corner, a HUMAN FIREBALL BOLTS out the side door - running down the alley. SCREAMING.
JOHNNY:
What the...
Fat Manny takes off down the alley after the streak of flames. Johnny YANKS open the door.
91 INT. SPRING HILL CASKETS
A casket packed with plastic bags of cocaine is on fire. Little Louie’s whacking the fire with his jacket.
Tommy’s FREEBASING cocaine from the top of a nearby casket.
TOMMY CALLAHAN (stoned):
Yeah. When I die, I’m gonna be buried face down so you can all KISS MY WHITE IRISH ASS!
JOHNNY (loudly):
What the fuck are you guys doing?
Johnny grabs the fire extinguisher from the corner - puts out the fire.
JOHNNY:
How STUPID can you guys be?
TOMMY CALLAHAN:
Hey? WHO farted and made you king?
JOHNNY (to Little Louie):
Hurry up. Clean up this shit before ...
O’Leary walks in.
92 EXT. VIEIRA FIRST FLOOR PORCH - NEXT MORNING
Bella and Senhora CABRAL sit on the porch knitting and chattering away in Portuguese.
His black curly hair framing his big brown eyes, JOEY MEDEIROS (now 20) - Grace’s boyfriend - LEAPS onto the porch with a mischievous smile. STARTLING them.
BELLA:
Aí Corisco Diabo!
She reaches over, playfully taps him with her knitting needles on his head.
BELLA:
Joey. Juízo na cabeça. You too big a boy to play like this.
JOEY (Blue Collar accent):
I know you still love me best Senhora Vieira.
He kisses Bella on the cheek.
Where’s Grace? Where’s my girl?
93 INT. BELLA’S SEWING ROOM
The same flowered curtain serves as the door to Bella’s sewing room. In the corner, sits the old Singer sewing machine across from the day bed. Grace’s Dora the Explorer doll rests on a pillow.
Grace is halfway under the daybed, her dark tanned legs peeking out. Joey reaches down and tickles her bare feet.
Grace looks up from underneath.
GRACE:
Hey Joey. You’re early.
JOEY:
I know. I gotta make a stop before I drop you off.
Grace continues searching under the bed.
JOEY:
What are you lookin’ for?
GRACE:
My ring. I can’t find it anywhere.
(pointing to the sewing machine)
I put it right on top of there last night.
JOEY:
Don’t worry about it.
GRACE:
Joey. That’s my promise ring. You paid a lot of money for it.
He reaches down for her hand, helping her up.
GRACE:
I really love that ring...
(taking one last look around)
Maybe I should pray to that Saint who finds stuff?
JOEY:
Forget about it. I’ll just buy you another one.
GRACE:
With what?
(pinching his cheeks)
Your good looks?
He takes her hand from his cheek, kisses it. Then pulls out a big wad of cash from his pants pocket.
JOEY:
With this. I got lucky at the dog track last night.
GRACE:
Joey, be good. You blew a ton of money there last time.
JOEY (smiling, charming):
Good ... I’ve always been.
94 INT. CHARLESBANK DRY CLEANERS - CONTINUOUS
Turtle’s at the counter, his shirt hanging out of his pants - a six pack of Sagres beer in one hand and a crumpled paper bag in the other.
Wearing a bright pink sundress, Grace enters carrying a pile of clothing - all neatly pressed, folded over hangers.
GRACE:
Hey, Turtle, I brought back all my mom’s alterations.
TURTLE (admiring the pile):
That ma of yours - she ain’t only good, she’s fast.
Grace places the clothing on a nearby rack, walks towards Turtle and glances at the crumpled paper bag he’s holding.
GRACE:
Turtle, you’re the only person I know who carries his cash around in a brown paper bag.
TURTLE:
Hey, whose gonna hold up a fat old guy with a dirty paper bag?
GRACE:
Anything I need to know today?
TURTLE:
Nope, “NADA” I’m goin’ to Newton. Somebody’s stealing again. Stupids!! I give ‘em jobs and they clean my watch.
GRACE (laughing):
Clock, Tu
rtle. It’s clean my clock.
TURTLE:
What? Clock, watch? Don’t matter to me. Stealing’s stealin.’
Turtle heads out the back. Grace kneels down behind the counter yanking at a blue nylon laundry bag.
Alex McPhearson, dapper in a Ralph Lauren polo and immaculately pressed khakis, enters carrying a bundle of shirts.
Grace pops up from behind the counter - a vision in pink. Alex immediately recognizes her.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (friendly):
Hi there.
Grace smiles.
GRACE (politely):
Hi.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Aren’t you the girl from the fish market?
GRACE (looks at him quizzically):
Excuse me?
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
You, you helped me the other day. At the fish market.
In Inman Square. Remember?
GRACE:
Oh yeah. The filet guy.
She starts counting out his shirts.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
So how did you learn Portuguese?
GRACE:
I’m Portuguese. I came here as a baby.
(smiling)
What’s your name?
He looks pleased that she has asked.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (excited):
Alex.
Sees her head is down, waiting to write his name on the slip.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (embarrassed):
Oh, Alex, Alex McPhearson.
GRACE:
How do you like them?
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Excuse me?
GRACE:
Your shirts?
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Oh, um, boxed, no starch please.
Grace counts out his shirts.
GRACE:
Okay. Six shirts, boxed, no starch. How’s Wednesday?
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Fine, sure ... that works.
95 EXT. CHARLESBANK DRY CLEANERS
Outside the dry cleaners entrance, Alex slowly looks back through the glass door - lingering a little too long on Grace as she stuffs his shirts into the blue nylon bag.
96 INT. BELLA’S SEWING ROOM - NIGHT, LATER
The “whirring” of the old-fashioned Singer fills the small room as Bella sits sewing.
Grace peeks in through the curtain.
GRACE:
Bye Ma. I’m off with Joey.
Bella turns around smiling, her face instantly dissolves into disapproval.
Grace is dressed in a short black skirt, skimpy top and black ankle-high boots. She looks HOT!
BELLA (broken English):
NO, NO, NO. You no go out this way.
GRACE:
What “way?”
Grace admires herself in the full length mirror.
Ma, I look great. This is what everybody’s wearing.
BELLA:
I no care. You no look like a lady.
GRACE (pleading):
Ma, come on. I’m already late.
BELLA:
GRACE Isabel Vieira. You listen to your mama. Is better to be a whore and dress like a lady, then to be a lady and dress like a whore.
(shaking her head)
God NO likes.
GRACE:
Oh my God. Where do you come up with this stuff?
(walking away)
Maybe I should just wear a burka. That should make God happy.
97 INT. SPRING HILL CASKET MANUFACTURERS - NIGHT
A “Towns & Gowns” party is in HOT progress: Beautiful women, macho townies, Harvard preppies drinking, doing coke, smoking pot. All mingling among the converted caskets - transformed into bar tops and beds.
Tommy, Fat Manny and two college-age, preppy girls sit side- by-side in coffins.
Fat Manny is bulging out of his coffin.
The girls, sharing a coffin, are stoned. Snorting lines of cocaine from the top of a thick college text book.
Tommy slowly looks over from one girl to another.
TOMMY CALLAHAN (to Fat Manny):
DRUGS ... they have a way of making us all EQUALS.
98 INT. DRY CLEANERS - NEXT DAY
Her olive skin peaking through the holes of her white, eyelet blouse, Grace’s hunched over the counter reading a large textbook - a pink sharpie highlighter in hand.
Alex walks in, happy to see her again.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Hey. What are you reading?
GRACE (matter-of-fact):
The History of Statistical Economics.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (surprised):
For fun?
GRACE:
No, for school.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
So you work here AND go to school?
GRACE:
Yep. That’s how the other half rolls.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
No kidding? I didn’t realize they were teaching senior level economics at community college? Are you at Bunker Hill?
Grace RAISES her eyebrows, about to correct him.
GRACE:
I go to...
Instead, she plays along - he’s just another Cambridge Elitist Snob.
Yeah. Bunker Hill. You’d be surprised to see what they’re teaching at community college these days.
A bit taken with her, he starts counting out his shirts.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (flirting an little):
So, when do you have time for fun?
GRACE (writing out his ticket):
I don’t.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
What are you studying?
GRACE:
Poli-Sci and History.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (toying with her):
Oh no. Don’t tell me you want to be a lawyer.
Grace smiles, playing along, writing out his ticket.
GRACE:
What’s wrong with lawyers?
Alex holds up his hands, liking her more as their conversation continues.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Nothing. Some of my best friends are lawyers...
Well, not really.
Laughing, she hands him his ticket.
Alex heads towards the door. Hesitates. Turns back around.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Uhmm. Do you have a name?
GRACE:
Grace. Grace Vieira.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Well, I was wondering, Grace Vieira. Do you ever have time to eat?
GRACE:
Of course.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Well, how about lunch sometime? Maybe you could help change my opinion of lawyers.
Grace blushes, smiling.
99 INT. INDUSTRIAL BACK OF DRY CLEANERS - CONTINUOUS
A blur of white cotton, Grace glides past the steamy, dingy laundry room packed tight with over-flowing baskets of dirty laundry.
TURTLE (angry):
Here’s 200 bucks. This is the last time, Joey. Don’t ask me again.
Grace walks up behind them.
GRACE:
Hey. Is everything ok?
JOEY (not expecting her):
Uhmmm ... Yeah. It’s fine.
GRACE:
Okay. I’m ready to go. Everything’s locked up.
Grace starts to walk away, stops and turns around.
GRACE:
Hey Turtle. Today was a really big day. We made over two thousand dollars.
TURTLE (chuckling):
Yeah. I think them college boys is bringin’ in their clean clothes just to take a look at you.
Joey reaches over and pulls up the sides of Grace’s off the shoulder blouse, covering her up.
She SLAPS Joey’s hands away and pulls the sides back down.
100 INT. JOEY’S CAR - CONTINUOUS
GRACE:
What were you and Turtle talking about?
JOEY:
Nothing.
GRACE:
It sounded like you were arguing.
JOEY (uncharacteris
tically irritated):
God, Grace! He’s my uncle. Can’t a guy just talk to his uncle?
Grace stares down at her ringless left hand, nervously circling her ring finger with her thumb.
101 EXT. SEEDY APARTMENT
A Rottweiler’s tied up to a chain link fence - BARKING.
Joey and Grace roll up, park in front of the dumpy complex.
102 INT. JOEY’S CAR
GRACE:
Why are we stopping here?
JOEY:
Um, I need to make a quick stop. Wait here.
GRACE (looking around):
Maybe, I should go in with you.
JOEY:
No, no. Stay in the car. You’ll be fine. Just lock the doors.
Joey exits.
She locks all the car doors.
Joey’s on the front porch, ringing the doorbell.
It’s opened by a short, ugly guy with long, bushy hair.
SCUMMY GUY (menacingly):
You alone?
JOEY:
Yeah, yeah. It’s just me.
He looks over Joey’s shoulder to the running car.
SCUMMY GUY:
Who’s that?
JOEY:
Just my girlfriend.
GUY takes a LONG look at her. Grace double checks all the car door locks and turns the radio up louder, looking all around.
103 INT. JOEY’S SMALL STUDIO APARTMENT - LATER
Joey whistles as he inserts a key into the lock.
The door swings open into a dark apartment.
JOHNNY:
Where you been?
Startled, Joey drops a white, canvas carpenter’s bag on the floor.
Johnny’s sitting on the couch in the dark.
JOEY:
Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me.
Joey flicks on the light.
JOHNNY (more aggressively):
I asked you a question. Where were you tonight?
JOEY:
I was with your sister. We went out for Chinese.
JOHNNY:
Where else Joey?
JOEY:
No place.
Johnny LUNGES towards Joey and throws him up against the wall, HARD. Grabs him tight by his jacket collar.
JOHNNY:
Listen to me you little shit. I know your every move. Gambling’s bad enough. But drugs. They’re way out of your bush-ass league.
JOEY:
But, but...
JOHNNY (grabbing him tighter):
Don’t you fuckin’ BUT me. If you ever, EVER bring my sister anywhere near drugs. I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.’
JOEY:
John, Johnny. I didn’t know what else to do. I owe Fat Manny two grand.
Johnny opens up the carpenter’s bag. Spots a large brick of marijuana wrapped in plastic.
JOHNNY:
How’d you get the money to buy this shit? And how the hell did you plan on selling it, you fuckin’ idiot.
What Geese Can't Fly Page 6