Vertigo Page #2

SCOTTIE:

Ow!!

MIDGE:

(Paying little

attention)

I thought you said no more aches and

pains?

SCOTTIE:

It's this darned corset. It binds.

He retrieves the stick.

MIDGE:

No three-way stretch? How very un-

chic.

SCOTTIE:

Well, you know those police department

doctors:
no sense of style.

(Sighs gratefully)

Ah, tomorrow!

MIDGE:

What's tomorrow?

SCOTTIE:

Tomorrow... the corset comes off.

And this thing goes out the window.

(He waves the stick)

I shall be a free man. I shall wiggle

my behind... free and unconfined.

He raises his eyebrows with a surprised and gratified smile.

Midge looks over at him with a grimace.

SCOTTIE:

Midge, do you suppose many men wear

corsets?

MIDGE:

More than you think.

SCOTTIE:

(Interested)

How do you know? Personal experience?

MIDGE:

Please!

(Then, impersonally)

And what happens after tomorrow?

SCOTTIE:

What do you mean?

MIDGE:

What are you going to do? Now that

you've quit the police force?

SCOTTIE:

(Gently)

You sound so disapproving, Midge.

MIDGE:

No, it's your life. But you were the

bright young lawyer who decided he

was going to be chief of police some

day.

SCOTTIE:

(Gently)

I had to quit, Midge.

MIDGE:

Why?

SCOTTIE:

I wake up at night seeing him fall

from the roof... and try to reach

out for him.

MIDGE:

It wasn't your fault.

SCOTTIE:

I know. Everybody tells me.

MIDGE:

Johnny, the doctors explained --

SCOTTIE:

I know. I have Acrophobia. What a

disease. A fear of heights. And what

a moment to find out I had it.

MIDGE:

Well, you've got it. And there's no

losing it. And there's no one to

blame. So why quit?

SCOTTIE:

And sit behind a desk? Chairborne?

MIDGE:

It's where you belong.

SCOTTIE:

(With a grin)

Not with my Acrophobia, Midge. If I

dropped a pencil on the floor and

bent down to pick it up, it could be

disastrous!

MIDGE:

(Laughs)

Ah, Johnny-O...

She considers him for a moment, then goes back to her work.

By now he is up and wandering about with the help of the

stick.

MIDGE:

(Finally, as she works)

Well?... what'll you do?

SCOTTIE:

Nothing for a while. You forget, I'm

a man of independent means. Or fairly

independent.

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