Young Man With A Horn Page #2

Nothing.

What's the matter, pops?

- Did you know we're going on the road?

- No, I didn't.

How long will you be gone?

Booker's got a good deal for us

in New York.

We've been figuring on staying there,

maybe for good.

- Hey, swell. I'll go with you.

- You can't.

- Even if you could, you shouldn't.

- Why not?

You've got to think about

what you're going to do.

- What you're going to be.

- That's easy.

I'm gonna be a trumpet man like you,

get me a job with a good band...

You think that's all there is to it?

Well, you... You taught me to play

a pretty good trumpet, didn't you?

You play a fine trumpet.

- Well, then...

- But what's it worth?

Look at me.

What have I got after 20 years of it?

A wife, kids, money in the bank?

- No.

- Why, you got the best band in the country.

I guess I'm playing with a heavy mute.

Look, boy.

You've got music in you.

You've got it here.

And you've got it here.

But the way things are, very few people

will ever know what you're saying.

- Or what you're trying to do.

- Who cares? I don't play for people.

I play for myself.

Look, boy.

A man's got a lot of living to do

in this world.

But you, you're kind of locked up

inside yourself.

You're like a... Like a bird trying to fly

on one wing.

You'll stay up for a while.

Then you're going to fall.

Have a drink of milk.

I'm gonna miss you, pops.

Oh, I almost forgot.

Thank you, Mr. Martin.

- Take care of yourself.

- I will.

Finally, he got his first good job.

And that was when I met him.

I've never seen such an intense...

... searching expression on anybody else.

Even then, he looked like a guy

very few people would understand.

Hello.

- Better get your skates sharpened.

- Yeah.

- Here, let me help you with that thing.

- Thanks.

Thanks a lot.

- What kind of hotel towels you got in here?

- Oh, that's my record collection.

Mostly Art Hazzard.

I got just about every one

he made, I guess.

- Really?

- Yeah.

- Taught me how to play.

- Is that so?

Yeah.

Oh, my name's Martin. Rick Martin.

I'm Willie Willoughby.

They call me Smoke.

Never could figure out why.

Me neither.

You know Art Hazzard?

Boy, he's the greatest trumpet player

in the world.

Glad to know you.

- Hi.

- Hello, boys.

- Hi, Smoke.

- Hello.

Honey, will you hand out

the arrangements?

- How are you, Mr. Chandler?

- Fine. Glad to have you aboard.

Oh, you're over there. All right,

let's get down to business.

Kenny, hand those out, please.

Johnny, this is for you.

- Graham.

- Rick Martin. How are you?

- Jack Flanagan. This is Tommy.

- This is Bill.

- Tommy.

- Thank you.

Hello, my name's Jo Jordan.

I sing in the band.

How do you do?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes