Schindler's List Page #5

STERN:

(pause)

Jews can no longer own businesses,

sir, that's why this one's for sale.

SCHINDLER:

Well, they wouldn't own it, I'd own

it. I'd pay them back in product.

They can trade it on the black market,

do whatever they want, everybody's

happy.

He shrugs; it sounds more than fair to him. But not to Stern.

STERN:

Pots and pans.

SCHINDLER:

(nodding)

Something they can hold in their

hands.

Stern studies him. This man is nothing more than a salesman

with a salesman's pitch; just dressed better than most.

STERN:

I don't know anybody who'd be

interested in that.

SCHINDLER:

(a slow knowing nod)

They should be.

Silence.

EXT. CRACOW - NIGHT

A mason trowels mortar onto a brick. As he taps it into a

place and scrapes off the excess cement, the image DRAINS OF

COLOR.

Under lights, a crew of brick-layers is erecting a ten-foot

wall where a street once ran unimpeded.

EXT. STREET - CRACOW - DAY

A young man emerges from an alley pocketing his Jewish

armband. He crosses a street past German soldiers and trucks

and climbs the steps of St. Mary's cathedral.

INT. ST. MARY'S CATHEDRAL - DAY

A dark and cavernous place. A priest performing Mass to

scattered parishioners. Lots of empty pews.

The young Polish Jew from the street, Poldek Pfefferberg,

kneels, crosses himself, and slides in next to another young

man, Goldberg, going over notes scribbled on a little pad

inside a missal. Pfefferberg shows him a container of shoe

polish he takes from his pocket. Whispered, bored --

GOLDBERG:

What's that?

PFEFFERBERG:

You don't recognize it? Maybe that's

because it's not what I asked for.

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