The Fabulous Baker Boys Page #3

JACK:

F*** him.

FRANK:

This isn't the Pine Tree Inn on

Route 81, Jack.

JACK:

F*** him.

FRANK:

(to himself)

F*** him. Great. Terrific. F*** him.

The fabulous Bakers walk in silence until they come to

Frank's car. Frank opens the trunk and starts to put

the stand-up away.

JACK:

So we on tomorrow night?

FRANK:

(shaking his head)

Maybe Thursday. I hear the harpist at the

Sheraton's got appendicitis.

Jack nods and starts to walk away.

FRANK:

(continuing)

Hey.

Jack stops.

FRANK:

(continuing)

Listen ... why don't you come out to the house

this weekend. Say hello to the kids.

They've grown.

JACK:

I hate your kids, Frank.

FRANK:

You're their uncle.

JACK:

Only by relation. Besides, they hate me, too.

FRANK:

They don't. They're always asking about you.

JACK:

They tried to electrocute me, Frank.

FRANK:

It was an accident.

JACK:

It was no f***ing accident, Frank. The little

one ...

FRANK:

Cindy.

JACK:

She threw a goddamn radio into the bathtub.

How do you explain that?

FRANK:

She didn't know what she was doing.

You're too sensitive.

JACK:

You got weird kids, Frank.

FRANK:

Look, I just thought if you came out you might

see what you're missing.

Jack just stares at Frank.

FRANK:

(continuing)

Just think about it, all right?

Consider it a standing offer.

Frank closes the trunk and moves to the driver's side.

FRANK:

(continuing;like a litany)

You want a ride, Jack? No, Frank,

I'll walk. Okay, Jack, good night.

Good night, Frank.

Frank turns the ENGINE OVER and pulls away from the curb.

Jack watches the taillights burn into the distance,

then takes the whiskey bottle from his coat and heads

for home.

ANGLE - APARTMENT BUILDING

Jack crosses the street and waves up to his apartment

building, where a black labrador is studying him from

a second story window.

INT. JACK'S APARTMENT

Jack's apartment is small, old, and comfortably

cluttered. The most striking item is a vintage phone

booth placed against the wall. As Jack lets himself in,

EDDIE, the dog from the window, walks over. He is not

an overly enthusiastic dog, but you can see from his

face that he has a great deal of affection for Jack.

JACK:

Hi, pal. Thought you were gonna clean the

apartment.

Eddie nuzzles the soup bone. Jack unwraps the paper

and hands it over.

JACK:

(continuing)

Take it easy, will ya? You're becoming a regular

Johhny Appleseed the way you're dropping teeth

around here.

Jack hangs his tie on the phone booth and walks over

to an old phonograph stacked six deep with discs.

He lifts the records back up the post and clicks ON the

MACHINE. As Bill Evans' smoky "PEACE PIECE" fills the

tiny apartment, Jack breaks the collar of his shirt and

walks over to the old piano near the window. Settling

back with the bottle of whiskey, Jack rests his elbows

gently on the keys and stares out the open window,

listening to the music.

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