Filuwaúrdjan
Realpolitik
Atlas Institution
Posts: 67,960
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« on: September 19, 2008, 06:11:34 PM » |
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EXT. STREET, GLOUCESTER. DUSK
The HIKER finishing 'Rock of Ages' on accordian.
A moment, and Eileen, rather hesitant, steps forward, fumbling in her purse, and puts two pennies in the hat.
Pull out - ARTHUR watching, enraptured.
HIKER: Thank you very, very much, sir. Thank you, very, very, much, madam.
EILEEN: (Awkwardly) It was very nice.
HIKER: (Startled) Pardon, lady?
EILEEN: (Embarrassed) It was nice - a nice hymn.
(The HIKER glows.)
HIKER: (Too ecstatic) Sh-shall I play you another one, lady?
(She starts to retreat)
EILEEN: I - ah -
HIKER: (Almost shouting) 'The Old Rugged Cross'! I'll play 'The Old Rugged Cross'!
EILEEN: (Retreating fast) No - it's all right - thank you.
(He starts the sonorous chords.
ARTHUR starts after her, then decides it is hopeless. His shoulders droop, he stares wistfully.
He turns back to the accordian player, who is thumping out the hymn.)
ARTHUR: (Angrily) Shut up, for gawd's sake! Half wit!!
(The accordian stops with a strange wail. The HIKER looks at ARTHUR, blinking, bewildered.
The two men hold the look, virtually toe-to-toe.
Then, strangely, in a sudden spurt of emotion, and without knowing why, ARTHUR embraces the HIKER, who starts to cry.)
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