WEST END BLUES
by
Jeremy Elliott
EXT. BEACH. DAWN
It's early morning and the rising sun dimly lights the
hanging fog.
The ocean waves crash into the jagged rocks of the shallow
water. The crystal white sand shimmers beneath the
penetrating sunlight.
JOE ST. CLAIR, mid 30's with worn down good looks, jogs along
the ocean side.
Joe breaths heavily. Sweat soaks the fabric of his shirt. He
pushes himself to continue, as if he is running from someone,
but no one follows.
EXT. MAIN STREET. DAWN
The quaint South Carolina beach town is still.
Main street consists of several small businesses: a post
office, a grocery store, a revival movie theater, and a small
cafe.
The fog is slowly beginning to lift.
Joe limps along the empty sidewalk. He favors his right knee.
INT. CAFE. DAWN
The small cafe is quiet at this early hour. A FEW ELDERLY
PEOPLE sit at a table drinking coffee and gossiping.
Joe sits alone eating his breakfast.
An ELDERLY WOMAN eyes Joe momentarily. She leans over and
whispers something to the ELDERLY MAN next to her. The
elderly woman flashes Joe a sympathetic look.
Joe notices, but is quick to ignore it. He continues to eat
in solitude.
INT. POST OFFICE. MORNING
The old post office has not aged well over the years. The
wood floors creak and the walls are cracked and water
stained.
A POSTAL EMPLOYEE is doing some paperwork behind the counter.
Joe steps up to the counter.
POSTAL EMPLOYEE
Good morning. What can I do for ya?
Joe pulls a pink piece of paper out of his wallet.
JOE
Uh, this came in the mail.
Joe hands the postal employee the slip.
POSTAL EMPLOYEE
You have a package... I'll be right
back.
The postal employee disappears into the mail room.
Joe looks around the post office. A poster hangs on the wall.
It reads, "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are
looking at the stars - Oscar Wilde." Joe reads the quote on
the poster.
The postal worker reemerges from the mail room carrying a
small package.
POSTAL EMPLOYEE
We were wondering if this was ever
gonna be picked up. It's been
sitting back there in the mail room
for last six months.
The postal worker hands the package to Joe. The receiving
name and address reads: "Samantha St. Clair, 116 Midvale
Avenue, Port Chester, South Carolina, 75238".
POSTAL EMPLOYEE
You and your wife forgot to fill
out a change of address form when
you moved. It took us a while to
hunt you down.
Joe examines the package briefly. He picks it up.
JOE
Thank you.
Joe exits the post office.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD. MORNING
The street is lined with middle class homes.
A street sign reads: "Midvale Ave".
A GARDNER is mowing the front lawn of one of the houses.
TWO BOYS are playing basketball in their driveway.
Joe walks through the neighborhood carrying the small package
under his arm. He passes a little blue house with a Realtor's
sign in the yard that reads, "For Sale." The street number on
the house reads: "116".
Joe does not stop walking, but continues to look at the blue
house out of the corner of his eye as he passes.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING. MORNING
Joe walks up the sidewalk to an old, two story apartment
building located in front of the beach.
The building is quite old and has not had much upkeep over
the years.
Joe's limp, while noticeable, is not quite as severe. He
carries the package under his arm.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ HALLWAY. MORNING
Joe walks down the hallway of the apartment building. He
carries the small package with him.
Joe passes apartment 2B. The sound of the bass guitar can be
heard from inside. An energetic ROCK AND ROLL SOLO fills the
hallway.
Joe reaches his apartment. The number on the door reads,
"5B." He pulls his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door.
Two doors down, HARRY DAVIS exits his apartment. Harry, late
60's, African American, big broad shoulders, wearing a brown
bathrobe, storms down the hallway to apartment 2B; the source
of the loud music.
Harry bangs on the door.
HARRY
(yelling)
... turn that God damn noise down!
There's no playing music inside the
building!
Joe watches momentarily, then opens the door to his apartment
and enters.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. EVENING
The small, studio apartment is cluttered with dusty boxes
that have not yet been unpacked.
Clothing is scattered across the floor. Dirty dishes fill the
sink.
An unmade bed, an old chair with an ottoman, and a kitchen
table are the only pieces of furniture in the messy
apartment.
Joe tosses the small package on the kitchen table. He opens
the refrigerator and grabs a frozen bag of french fries and a
bottle of beer.
Joe limps into the living room area and plops down on the
chair. He hoists his bad leg up on the ottoman and slowly
rolls the pant leg up. Joe's knee is badly swollen. A long
scar stretches across the knee cap.
Joe applies the frozen bag of french fries to his swollen
knee. Joe exhales in relief. He twists the cap off the beer
and takes a drink.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
The entire floor of the apartment is covered with
photographs.
Joe holds a stack of pictures in his hands and one by one he
lines them up neatly on the floor.
ANGLE ON
A photograph of Joe, his wife Samantha, and daughter Jesse at
the beach. They are all smiling happily as they pose for the
picture.
ANGLE ON
A photograph of Samantha and Jesse burying Joe in the sand.
ANGLE ON
A photograph of Samantha with her arms draped around Jesse at
the beach. They look so innocent and content.
Joe places the last photograph on the floor. He sits trapped
against the wall by the sea of pictures.
Joe stares out across the memories. His jaw tenses.
EXT. BEACH. NIGHT
The beach is completely empty at this late hour. The only
sounds are of the crashing of the waves against the rocks and
Joe's heavy breathing as he runs along the beach.
Joe is drenched in sweat. He pushes himself to run faster. He
does so in spite of the pain in his knee.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING. NIGHT
Joe limps up the sidewalk towards his apartment building.
He stops. The MELANCHOLY SOUND OF A SAXOPHONE fills the night
air. He looks around to see where the music is coming from.
Joe looks up towards the rooftop of the building. The music
appears to be coming from above. He listens to the elegance
of the jazz ballad. The soothing cry of the saxophone is
haunting at this late hour.
EXT. BEACH. MORNING
The calm morning tides roll in.
The CRIES of a SEAGULL echo near by.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ HALLWAY. DAY
Joe exits his apartment. He locks the door behind him.
Joe walks down the hallway.
Walking towards Joe is BENNY, early twenties, cute, and
carrying a guitar case, and his girlfriend, RACHELLE, late
teens, midnight black hair, and a nose ring. They are holding
hands and giggling at something funny that was said.
Benny courteously smiles at Joe as they pass one another. Joe
smiles awkwardly back and then quickly looks away to avoid
eye contact.
Joe turns around and glances back at the happy young couple
walking down the hallway.
INT. HOSPITAL. DAY
The hospital is uncomfortably calm. The surroundings are
sterile and pristine. There is a steady BEEPING sound coming
from seemingly nowhere.
Joe approaches the Sign In desk. A RECEPTIONIST sits behind
the counter.
JOE
Hi, I'm here to see Maggie, I mean,
uh, Dr. Reynolds.
RECEPTIONIST
What's your name, please?
JOE
Joe St. Clair.
The Receptionist locates his name on a list.
RECEPTIONIST
Okay, why don't you have a seat and
Dr. Reynolds will be right with
you.
JOE
Thanks.
Joe turns and walks in the direction of the Waiting Room.
Suddenly the sound of TWO DOORS BURSTING OPEN echoes loudly
down the hospital hallway. Joe is startled.
He looks down the hallway to see two EMERGENCY ROOM DOCTORS
entering calmly though a doorway. One of them chuckles at
something humorous that was said.
Joe appears uncomfortable. He wipes sweat from his brow.
Suddenly the sound of a FLORESCENT LIGHT BULB SURGING, about
to go out, can be heard. Joe walks towards the adjoining
hallway to explore the source of the noise.
Joe peers down the hallway. It is completely empty. The
florescent lighting tubes above are flickering, causing a
strobing effect. They HUM and CLICK, like a car engine about
to die.
Suddenly the light POPS, sending a surge of light down the
hallway. Joe jumps.
MAGGIE
Joe...
Joe turns around, startled again...
MAGGIE REYNOLDS, early thirties, auburn hair, beautiful,
wearing a white doctor's coat, is standing there. She looks
concerned.
INT. EXAMINING ROOM. DAY
Joe is sitting on the examining table. Maggie glances over
his chart.
JOE
I hate hospitals.
MAGGIE
Yeah, I'm not too crazy about them
myself.
Maggie picks up a hospital gown from the counter top.
MAGGIE
You wanna wear a gown?
Maggie smiles.
JOE
(sternly)
No.
MAGGIE
Suit yourself.
Maggie places the stethoscope over her ears and listens to
Joe's heart.
MAGGIE
So, have you gone back to work yet?
Joe grumbles.
JOE
They want me to go to grievance
counseling first. I think they're
afraid I'll flip out and stray from
the syllabus; teach the classical
band class Alice Cooper songs.
Maggie grins. She starts checking Joe's blood pressure.
MAGGIE
So what do you do all day?
JOE
I keep busy.
MAGGIE
Maybe you should get a dog. When
Simon left me for that cosmetics
girl at Bloomingdales, I got a St.
Bernard.
JOE
You have a St. Bernard?
MAGGIE
Well, I did, until it ran off with
a female dog at the park... Oddly
enough, just like Simon did.
Maggie finishes taking Joe's blood pressure.
MAGGIE
Okay, let's see that knee.
Joe lifts his leg up onto the examining table and rolls up
his pant leg. Maggie's expression tenses.
MAGGIE
It's swollen.
JOE
Yeah.
MAGGIE
Why is it swollen?
JOE
Uh, you're the doctor.
MAGGIE
Joe!
JOE
Maggie!
MAGGIE
You've been jogging again. I told
you, it's not gonna heal if you
keep running on it.
JOE
What kind of doctor tells you not
to exercise?
MAGGIE
(irritated)
Oh, I don't know, maybe one that
graduated from John's Hopkins. Or
how about one that just this
morning performed a very
complicated operation to remove
part of a man's colon!
Joe looks at Maggie strangely.
JOE
So now he has a semicolon?
MAGGIE
Stop jogging!
INT. HOSPITAL. DAY
Maggie and Joe walk down the hallway.
MAGGIE
So is there any other pain?
JOE
Not really. Just these headaches
sometimes at night; makes it hard
to sleep. But it's nothing really.
So, Maggie, just out of curiosity,
what are we now? I mean, we're not
technically in-laws anymore, right?
Maggie checks her pager.
MAGGIE
Um, you know, I'm not sure, Joe.
I'm getting paged. I have to go.
JOE
Okay.
Maggie starts backing down the hallway in the opposite
direction.
MAGGIE
I'll talk to you soon.
JOE
Yeah.
MAGGIE
Oh, and Joe... It's not gonna heal
if you keep running on it.
Joe nods. Maggie turns and walks in the opposite direction.
INT. GROCERY STORE. DAY
Joe grabs several bags of frozen french fries from the
freezer and tosses them in his cart.
INT. GROCERY STORE/ CHECK-OUT LANE. DAY
Joe stands in line at the check out counter.
Two lanes over, Harry, dressed in his brown bathrobe and
black shades is paying for a couple bottles of scotch.
Joe watches as Harry grabs the sack and exits the grocery
store.
A LITTLE GIRL, six years old and wearing a fairy costume with
little wings strapped to her back, skips down the aisle. Her
FATHER follows close behind. Joe watches.
LITTLE GIRL
Come on, daddy! Let's get some ice
cream!
A sadness overcomes Joe.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe sits on the ground beside an opened box. The box is
labeled: "Jesse" in purple crayon.
Several children's books and toys are laying on the ground. A
half glass of wine sets beside him, next to the small package
he picked up from the post office.
Joe holds a raggedy, old stuffed bunny rabbit. He runs the
soft velvet ears between his fingers.
Joe tosses the stuffed rabbit back in the box. He takes a
drink of his wine.
Joe picks up the package. He runs his fingers softly across
the address on the package.
Joe abruptly stands up..
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. CONTINUES
Joe tosses several of Jesse's toys back in the box and closes
it up.
Joe grabs a couple of the moving boxes.
EXT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE. NIGHT
A spring time thunderstorm has moved over the small beach
town and it is pouring down rain.
Joe places the last box into his vehicle. The SUV is packed
full of boxes.
Joe closes the hatch back. He climbs into the driver's seat
and starts the engine.
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE. NIGHT
Joe drives down a long stretch of a dark highway. The rain
pounds down upon the windshield.
The windshield wipers SQUEAK as they move back and forth
across the windshield.
A commercial on the radio is interrupted with static.
A bolt of lightning illuminates the sky and a RUMBLE of
thunder fills the air.
Joe turns the dial on the radio...
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE/ FLASHBACK. NIGHT
... A hand is turning the dial on the radio. Amongst the
static a JAZZ TUNE emerges.
SAMANTHA ST. CLAIR, early thirties, and beautiful, lowers the
volume on the radio. She sits in the passenger seat next to
Joe, who is driving. JESSE ST. CLAIR, six years old, playing
with a stuffed bunny rabbit, sits in the back seat.
Rain pounds down on the windshield.
The windshield wipers SQUEAK as they move back and forth
across the windshield.
Samantha laughs.
SAMANTHA
No, Joe, our second date was the
zoo. I remember specifically
because we had our third kiss in
front of the Gorilla House.
JOE
We had our third kiss on our second
date?
Samantha laughs.
JOE
Boy were you easy.
SAMANTHA
I was not...
JOE
What, did we have our first kiss
before we met?
Suddenly a blinding flash of headlights and the HONKING of a
horn passes Joe in the other lane. Joe swerves briefly.
JOE
Slow down, asshole!
SAMANTHA
(sternly)
Joe.
Joe looks at Jesse in the rearview mirror.
JOE
Sorry, baby.
JESSE
It's okay.
JOE
It's just you can barely see the
damn road and people are driving
like idiots.
SAMANTHA
Maybe we should pull over until the
rain lets up.
Joe briefly ponders the suggestion.
JOE
Nah, we're almost home.
Joe uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe some of the
moisture from the inside of the windshield...
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE. CONTINUES
... Joe pulls his sleeve away from the windshield. He looks
over at the passenger seat. No one is there.
A JAZZ TUNE playing on the radio accompanies the rhythm of
the WINDSHIELD WIPERS.
Rain continues to fall.
EXT. GAS STATION. NIGHT
Joe stands under the awning at the gas station, pumping gas.
He stares blankly out into the night.
Suddenly the rain stops.
Joe walks out from under the awning and looks up at the sky.
A storm cloud rolls by REVEALING a clear night sky covered in
tiny speckles of starlight.
EXT. JOE'S PARENT'S HOUSE. NIGHT
The St. Clair house is secluded on a ten acre patch of land.
There are no neighbors within miles.
Joe turns into the driveway. He pulls up to the house.
The porch lights turn on.
INT. JOE'S PARENT'S HOUSE/ ATTIC. NIGHT
Joe opens the door leading into the attic. He turns on the
light.
The attic is cluttered with dusty boxes and old furniture and
clothing.
Joe carries two boxes into the attic. Joe's father, MR. ST.
CLAIR, late fifties, gray hair, wearing a bathrobe, follows
Joe into the attic carrying a couple boxes as well.
JOE
I need a place to store these
things for awhile.
MR. ST. CLAIR
That's fine, Joe, I just don't
understand why you didn't wait
until morning. You shouldn't be on
the road this late at night.
JOE
You and mom sure don't throw
anything out.
Joe looks around at the piles of stuff: an old rolled up rug,
a broken down sowing machine, a bicycle with no front tire.
MR. ST. CLAIR
That's your mother. I've been
trying to get her to let me clean
this attic out for years. But she
seems to think we need to hold on
to it. Bunch of junk if you ask me.
Joe sets down the moving boxes.
Joe notices something amongst the pile of junk in the corner
of the attic. He moves a couple dusty boxes labeled:
"Christmas Stuff" out of the way to REVEAL an OLD DRUM SET.
INT. JOE'S PARENT'S HOUSE/ HALLWAY. NIGHT
Joe walks down the hallway carrying a couple boxes. He stops
in front of a bedroom door. He pauses momentarily.
Joe reaches in the room and flips on the light switch,
REVEALING Joe's old childhood bedroom. Everything is the same
as it was the day he left for college.
Posters of Duke Ellington and Louie Armstrong are tacked to
the wall.
Several prize ribbons from high school jazz band competitions
are hung from a book shelf.
Joe surveys the room from the hallway and then flips the
light switch off and walks away.
INT. JOE'S PARENT'S HOUSE/ KITCHEN. NIGHT
Joe and Mr. St. Clair sit at the kitchen table.
MRS. ST. CLAIR, mid fifties, wearing a night gown, fills
their cups with coffee.
MRS. ST. CLAIR
Maybe you should go on a trip. Get
a way for awhile.
MR. ST. CLAIR
You could visit your Uncle Desmond
in Arizona. He lives right on a
golf course. A ball hit him in the
head while he was taking the
garbage out.
MRS. ST. CLAIR
Maybe you could get a dog.
JOE
Let me ask you guys something, is
that my old drum set up there in
the attic?
MRS. ST. CLAIR
I believe so. Your father wanted me
to throw all of that stuff out...
MR. ST. CLAIR
It's a bunch of junk.
MRS. ST. CLAIR
I remember when you first got that
thing. You said you were going to
practice until you were as good as
Jimmy Krupa.
MR. ST. CLAIR
Gene Krupa.
MRS. ST. CLAIR
Of course. Why do you ask, dear?
JOE
I was thinking about taking it with
me.
Joe takes a drink of his coffee.
EXT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE. NIGHT
Joe finishes loading the drum set into the SUV and closes the
hatchback.
Mr. and Mrs. St. Clair are outside to see him off.
MR. ST. CLAIR
Are you sure you won't stay, son?
You can leave first thing in the
morning.
JOE
I need to get back.
Joe shakes his fathers hand.
MR. ST. CLAIR
If you need anything, give us a
call.
Joe gives his mother a hug.
MRS. ST. CLAIR
We love you, sweetheart. Drive
safely and call if you need
anything.
Joe climbs into the vehicle and starts the engine. He waves
to his folks and drives away.
EXT. BEACH. DAWN
The sun peeks above the surface of the horizon. The early
morning sunlight reflects off the surface of the ocean.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. DAWN
Joe is setting up his drum set. It consists of one bass drum,
one snare drum, a high hat, two toms, and two cymbals.
The drum set takes up a large portion of the small apartment.
It seems enormous within its surroundings.
Joe picks up the drum sticks and settles down on the stool in
front of the instrument. He blows a layer of dust off the
base.
Joe rolls up his sleeves. He grips the sticks loosely in his
hands. He hesitates momentarily and then...
Joe begins softly tapping on the cymbals. He creates a beat.
He bobs his head to the simple rhythm.
Suddenly, Joe bursts out into a brief, but energetic solo,
utilizing the entire set.
He stops. The sound settles and evaporates.
Slowly a grin stretches across his face.
Again, he lets loose on the drums. This time playing a little
bit louder, a little bit more energized.
Joe grabs the cymbal to cease the vibration. His eyes are
wide and his eye brows are raised. He exhales.
Joe jumps up off the stool.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT/ CLOSET. DAWN
Joe swings the closet doors open. The closet is full of
unpacked boxes, labeled with magic marker: "pots and pans"
and "bathroom stuff."
Joe removes a couple boxes until he comes across a box
labeled: "records." He grabs it.
Joe opens the box to REVEAL it is full of old jazz records.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. DAWN
Joe places an album, Sonny Side Up by Dizzy Gillespie, Sonny
Rollins, and Sonny Stitt on the record player. He eases the
needle into the groove of the vinyl record.
The song, I Know That You Know, plays.
Joe sits back down in front of the drum set. He begins to
accompany the song on the drums.
There is a loud KNOCK at the door. Joe does not hear it
because of the drums. The knocking becomes LOUDER.
Joe stops. The knocking stops.
Joe continues to play the drums. The knocking starts up
again. It is EVEN LOUDER this time.
Joe stops. The knocking stops. He listens for the source of
the knocking, but hears nothing.
Joe continues to play. The knocking begins again. Joe ceases
immediately and hears the knocking coming from the front
door. Joe jumps up off the stool.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT/ FRONT DOOR. DAWN
Joe opens the front door. Harry is standing at the door in
his brown bathrobe and dark shades.
HARRY
What the hell is that noise?
JOE
Uh, I was playing the...
Harry peers in the door.
HARRY
You got yourself a meth lab goin'
on in here?
JOE
(confused)
I'm sorry, Meth lab?
HARRY
Methamphetamine. Don't play stupid
with me boy. I know about that
skinny negro who lived here before
you. Cops showed up and found crack
cookin' on the stove and a Gypsie
tied up in the closet.
JOE
Uh... I don't know what kind of
sounds a tied up Gypsie would make,
but probably what you heard was my
drums.
Joe points towards the drums in his living room.
JOE
Was I being too loud?
HARRY
Even if I would've been fortunate
enough to have been born deaf, it
would have still been too loud!
JOE
I could try to keep it down...
HARRY
There's no playing music in the
building! It's bad enough we've got
that punk kid down the hall with
his guitar. We don't need to start
a band.
JOE
Maybe I could play softer...
HARRY
In this building we want peace, we
want quiet, and we don't want to be
disturbed by inconsiderate morons
who live next door. You got me?
A pause.
JOE
So you don't want me to play the
drums?
HARRY
Fuck... off.
Harry walks away.
Joe shuts the door. He looks at the drums setting in the
middle of the apartment. He suddenly gets an idea.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ STAIRWAY. DAY
Joe is dragging two large drum cases up the stairs. The
pounding of the large cases against the stairs reverberates
loudly down the hallway of the apartment building.
Joe stumbles briefly. He rests one of the cases on the stairs
and grabs his bad knee. Joe winces.
Harry pokes his head out of his apartment. He watches Joe has
he continues carrying the drum cases up the stairs.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. DAY
Joe exits through a door atop the stairway that leads onto
the roof of the apartment building.
There is a breath taking view of the ocean from the roof.
Joe sets the cases down and walks out close to the ledge and
takes in the view. The crisp sea breeze blows briskly through
his hair.
Joe notices an ashtray filled with cigar butts is setting on
the ledge.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. DAY
Joe finishes assembling the drum set. He sits down on the
stool and grips the sticks.
Joe is about to play when a pigeon lands on the bass drum.
JOE
Shoo... Shoo... Go on now.
The bird does not budge.
Joe tries a soft drum roll to scare the bird away. The bird
remains perched upon the drum.
He plays a few beats on the toms and then crashes down on the
cymbals. Again, the bird stays put.
Joe smirks.
JOE
Stubborn bird.
A gust of wind picks up and the bird flies away.
Joe begins playing an UPBEAT JAZZ NUMBER on the drums. He
doesn't hold back.
Joe closes his eyes and escapes into the rhythm of the music.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe lays in bed awake. He squints his eyes and winces as a
headache overcomes him. He massages his temples.
Suddenly Joe hears the faint sound of the SAXOPHONE being
played outside.
Joe sits up. He opens the window next to his bed.
The music is now LOUDER.
Joe lays back down. He listens to the soothing lullaby of the
saxophone.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. DAY
Joe is cleaning his drum set. He wipes a rag across the bass
of the drums. The instrument glistens in the sunlight.
There is YELLING from down below.
BENNY (O.C.)
Rachelle, where are you going? I
told you, Baby, I was at rehearsal
last night. You know we rehearse
late on Thursday nights!
Joe walks to the ledge of the roof and peeks over to see what
the commotion is about.
ANGLE BELOW
Rachelle has exited the apartment building. Benny chases
after her.
BENNY
Come on, will you just stop?
Benny tries to grab her arm. Rachelle pulls away.
RACHELLE
Get off of me, Benny! Unlike you, I
have to go to work now.
Rachelle walks quickly away. Benny gives up pursuit.
BENNY
Come on! We agreed never to walk
away mad.
Rachelle turns around as she's walking away.
RACHELLE
We also agreed not to fuck other
people! Asshole!
Benny throws his arms up in frustration. He walks back
towards the apartment building.
Benny looks up and sees Joe peeking over the ledge of the
roof. Joe quickly jumps back out of Benny's view.
Benny hastily enters the apartment building.
Joe peeks back over the ledge.
ANGLE BELOW
Maggie is walking up the sidewalk towards the apartment
building. She carries a small paper bag.
Joe notices her.
JOE
Maggie...
Joe waves his arms to get her attention.
Maggie looks up.
MAGGIE
(worried)
Joe, what are you doing?
JOE
No, it's okay. Come on up!
Maggie stares strangely up at Joe.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. DAY
Maggie enters from the stairway. She carries the small paper
bag.
JOE
Hey, what are you doing here?
MAGGIE
(uneasy)
Uh, I brought you some medicine...
for those headaches. Joe, why are
we on the roof?
Maggie walks cautiously.
JOE
I'm playing my drums.
Joe smiles. He steps to the side to REVEAL the drum set.
MAGGIE
Oh, okay, that's really... great.
But why are we on the roof?
Maggie realizes she is too close to the ledge. She steps
away.
JOE
One of my pleasant neighbors
complained about the noise.
MAGGIE
So you couldn't move it somewhere
else, you know... say sea level?
JOE
Nah, this is better. Look, I've got
an amazing view of the ocean... and
on the other side...
Joe grabs Maggie's hand and drags her to the opposite side of
the roof. They stop close to the ledge. Maggie clinches a
hold of Joe's arm.
JOE
(enthusiastically)
You can see the entire town.
Joe smiles proudly.
JOE
You see that blue roof over there?
MAGGIE
Uh, yes.
JOE
That's the video store.
MAGGIE
(unimpressed)
Oh.
Maggie is clinched tightly to Joe's arm. She does not move a
muscle.
MAGGIE
Hey, Joe...
JOE
Yeah?
MAGGIE
Do you think we could move away
from the edge?
JOE
Oh, yeah, of course.
Joe slowly leads Maggie away from the ledge of the roof.
JOE
You're afraid of heights.
MAGGIE
Yes. Always have. Never been on a
ladder in my life.
JOE
Samantha was afraid of heights.
Maggie lets go of Joe's arm.
MAGGIE
So you're taking up the drums?
JOE
Yeah, well, getting back into it
really. I played when I was
younger.
Joe pulls out the stool for Maggie to sit down.
JOE
Here, sit down.
Maggie sits. She relaxes a bit.
JOE
I used to play in college. Me and
some friends had a garage band.
MAGGIE
Were you guys any good?
JOE
Not really, but we had a great name
and that's the important part. We
were called the Talking Tacos.
Maggie lets out a sudden sharp laugh.
JOE
You laugh, but that's actually how
I met your sister.
Her best friend Lisa was dating the
lead singer of the band; Scooter
Scagnetti.
MAGGIE
The leader singer of the Talking
Tacos was named Scooter Scagnetti?
JOE
Yep.
MAGGIE
How could you guys not make it?
That's like a VH1 Behind the Music
right there.
JOE
So, any ways, her and Lisa were our
first, and sadly enough, only
groupies. They even had T-shirts
made.
MAGGIE
That said...
JOE
... Talking Tacos, yes.
MAGGIE
I have trouble picturing you in a
band. I mean I've seen you conduct
your high school kids in concerts
and parades, but I'm having trouble
with this image of you with like
torn jeans and an ill-advised
pierced ear.
Maggie giggles.
JOE
Yeah, it seems like forever ago.
MAGGIE
And what ever happened to Scooter?
Is there a reunion tour scheduled?
Maggie grins devilishly.
Joe bites down on his lower lip to hide his smile.
JOE
(sarcastically)
He actually works at that video
store with the blue roof.
If you come with me you can see it
from right over here.
Joe grabs Maggie by the arm and starts dragging her towards
the ledge.
Maggie laughs as she tries to pull away from Joe's grasp.
MAGGIE
(laughing)
Joe, stop, noooooo...
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. AFTERNOON
Joe is fixing spaghetti for dinner. All the required
ingredients are strewn out on the counter.
Joe reads the instructions from a recipe card.
Joe retrieves a pot from one of the opened moving boxes
labeled, "pots and pans." He fills it with water and places
it on the stove.
Joe turns the knob on the oven, but the burner does not work.
Joe unlatches the casing off the bottom of the oven for
inspection. The pilot light is out.
Joe grabs a lighter from the drawer. He attempts to light the
pilot light underneath, but the lighter does not work. He
tries several times without success.
EXT. HARRY'S APARTMENT. AFTERNOON
Joe knocks on the door several times.
Harry opens the door abruptly. He is wearing the brown
bathrobe.
HARRY
What?
JOE
Hi, I'm your inconsiderate neighbor
two doors down.
Joe pauses for laughter. Harry doesn't so much as crack a
smile.
JOE
I was wondering if I could borrow
some matches.
Harry scowls at Joe.
HARRY
Wait here.
Harry disappears into the apartment. Joe waits at the door.
Joe peeks his head in to get a look at Harry's apartment.
All of the curtains are closed leaving the apartment very
dark.
A day time talk show plays on the television. The topic is,
"Civil War Reenactor's and the Women That Love Them."
An ashtray full of cigar butts rests on the coffee table next
to a brown, leather recliner.
The kitchen sink is full of empty liquor bottles.
And a black saxophone case sets on the ground beside the
couch.
Harry reappears with a book of matches. He flips them to Joe.
JOE
Thanks, I'll replace them.
HARRY
Don't bother.
Harry starts to close the door.
JOE
So you play the saxophone?
Joe points to the saxophone case.
JOE
I'm actually a music teacher.
HARRY
Good for you.
Harry slams the door...
JOE
So how long have you played?
... shut on Joe's face.
JOE
Okay. Good talking to you.
Joe walks away.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe lays in bed asleep. He tosses and turns.
SAMANTHA (v.o.)
(whispers)
Joe...
Joe awakes. He abruptly sets up. He breathes heavily. His
hair is drenched with sweat.
Joe jumps out of bed.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ STAIRWAY. NIGHT
Joe climbs the stairs as quickly as he can with his bad
knee...
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. NIGHT
... Joe bursts through the door onto the roof.
Joe uncovers the drum set. He sits at the drums.
Joe begins to play. He does not hold anything back. All of
his stored up pain and aggression is released onto the
instrument.
INT. RECORD SHOP. DAY
The vinyl record shop is cluttered with aisles of old
collectible albums from generations of recent and past.
The pale yellow walls are covered with posters featuring a
variety of famous musicians.
The stock shelves are graffitied with dated bumper stickers.
Joe is looking through a stack of old jazz albums in the
"Used" section. He flips through classic records by the
greats of jazz and blues like: Duke Ellington, Joe Oliver,
and Charlie Parker.
Joe comes across an album by a jazz band called,
"The Charleston Jazz Delights".
The album cover displays four African American men in red
suspenders and red bow ties, holding various instruments.
Silly grins occupy their faces.
Joe studies the album cover. He holds it up closer to his
face for better examination.
One of the four musicians appears to be a much younger
looking Harry. He is barely recognizable because of his
youthful appearance and energetic expression.
Joe flips the album over. In small print towards the bottom
are the musician's credits. One of the credits reads,
"Harry Davis - Saxophone".
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT. DAY
There is a KNOCK at the door.
Harry opens the front door.
Joe is standing there holding the record. He has a huge smile
on his face.
JOE
You're Harry Davis.
HARRY
What the hell do you want?
JOE
I found one of your albums at the
record shop.
Harry scowls.
JOE
I can't believe this is you. Man, I
grew up listening to The Delights.
My dad had a bunch your old albums.
Why would you lie about playing? I
mean, you were a legend. Langston
Hughes said the haunting sounds of
your sax solo would follow him into
his dreams at night.
HARRY
You know, you're really starting to
test my patience. For the last
time, LEAVE ME ALONE!
Harry slams the door...
JOE
Can I get your autograph!
... shut. Joe stands there staring at the closed door. He
chuckles to himself.
JOE
(loudly)
I can't believe I didn't recognize
you.
Joe walks down the hallway.
He carries the record under his arm. A goofy smile lingers.
Benny is walking down the hallway towards him. He carries his
guitar case with him.
They pass one another. Joe turns around.
JOE
You play lead or bass?
Benny turns around.
BENNY
Uh, both, but mainly bass.
JOE
Yeah? And you're in a band?
BENNY
Yeah.
JOE
What are you called?
BENNY
Uh, Space Bunnies Ate My Snow
Boots.
JOE
Nice.
BENNY
You play in a band?
JOE
I used to... when I was younger.
BENNY
It's pretty great, huh?
Joe ponders the question.
JOE
Yeah, it was.
A pause.
BENNY
Well, I'll see ya around.
Joe nods. Benny turns and walks away.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe sits at the kitchen table. A clock on the wall reads,
"2:37".
Joe pours some cream into a cup of coffee and stirs it with a
spoon.
The package addressed to his wife still sets on the table.
Joe picks up the package. He examines it.
Suddenly, the sound of SAXOPHONE MUSIC can be heard from the
window.
Joe tosses the package onto the table. He stands and exits
the apartment.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. NIGHT
Joe enters the rooftop from the stairway.
The night sky is sprinkled with tiny speckles of starlight.
The sound of the SAXOPHONE seems to be accompanying the
rhythm of the ocean below.
Joe rounds the corner to REVEAL Harry, in his usual brown
bath robe, playing the saxophone. He plays the song, Body and
Soul.
Harry is the embodiment of the seasoned jazz musician;
the saxophone appears to be but an extension of his body.
Harry finishes the song. He opens his eyes to find Joe
standing only a few feet away.
HARRY
There are laws against harassing
senior citizens.
JOE
That was incredible.
Harry starts putting his saxophone away in the case.
JOE
What was that, Coltraine? Hawkins?
It sounded familiar.
HARRY
It was, Leave Me The Hell Alone, by
Harry Davis.
JOE
Why do you only play late at night?
HARRY
To avoid being bothered.
JOE
What good is playing music if no
one is awake to hear? Jazz is an
expression, it needs to be heard.
Harry grabs his saxophone case and starts walking towards the
stairs.
HARRY
Yeah, what the hell do you know
about jazz?
Harry walks away from Joe.
JOE
I know that it was the first truly
American art form.
Harry stops before getting to the stairs.
JOE
And at a time when scholars were
frantically trying to discover an
American Bach or Mozart to put us
on the map, there were people like
Duke Ellington and Louie Armstrong
who were taking it upon themselves
to create an original style unlike
nothing ever heard of before.
Harry turns around towards Joe.
JOE
I know that jazz used to be spelled
with two S's before being replaced
with Z's and that it matured in
pool halls and speak easies, in
tuff neighborhoods like Storyville
and Harlem and the lower south
side.
I know that Buddy Bolden started
The Big Noise and that Jelly Roll
Morton pioneered Ragtime and that
my daughter wouldn't go to sleep at
night unless we played something by
Ella Fitzgerald first.
Joe now has all of Harry's attention.
JOE
I know that music has gotten me
through a lot of difficult times in
my life and now I'm relying on it
again.
Joe lets out a nervous chuckle.
JOE
And I most definitely know I have
never heard anyone play the
saxophone the way you just played
it.
Harry stands still, as if he's about to say something...
... but instead he turns and exits through the door to the
stairway.
Joe walks over to the drum set and sits down. He pounds out a
couple frustrated beats on the toms and then crashes down on
the cymbals.
INT. CAFE. MORNING
Joe cuts into his scrambled eggs with a fork and scoops a
large bite into his mouth.
We hear the RING of a bell from the front entrance of the
cafe. Someone has entered.
Joe has his head downwards, eating his breakfast. He does not
notice the person enter.
Harry sits down at the table next to him. Joe looks up at
Harry directly across from him, but one table over.
Harry pretends not to notice Joe.
The WAITRESS approaches Harry's table.
WAITRESS
What can I get for ya?
HARRY
I'll have a cup of coffee, black...
Harry picks up the menu.
HARRY
And what's good here to eat?
JOE
(with his mouthful)
The scrambled eggs are excellent.
Harry doesn't acknowledge Joe.
HARRY
I'll have a bowl of grits.
The waitress takes the menu and walks away.
JOE
I was gonna suggest the grits next.
Again, Harry does not acknowledge Joe.
Joe goes back to eating his breakfast.
There is a long silence.
HARRY
You actually know how to play them
drums?
Joe looks up in shock that Harry is talking to him.
JOE
Uh, a little. I'm rusty, it's been
a while.
HARRY
It's not that difficult. You just
keep rhythm.
JOE
Yeah, that's true. So you were in
the Delights, huh? Man, you cats
could play.
Harry rolls his eyes at the terminology.
JOE
You guys reinvented the big four.
Jillie MaGurie on the coronet, he'd
hit that accent on the fourth
beat...
Joe pantomimes holding the coronet. He twiddles his fingers
in the air like he's playing the keys.
JOE
Maurice Hubbs on the drums...
Joe mimics the sound of the drums. He combines the coronet
solo with the drum beat, creating an improvised melody.
Harry looks over his shoulder embarrassed.
JOE
Papa Bear playing the keys, man,
with that irrepressible left hand,
the rumblin' right...
Joe mimics playing the piano with his fingers and sings the
sounds of the piano.
Patrons of the small cafe are taking notice of Joe's antics.
Harry is uncomfortable with the attention.
JOE
You on the saxophone...
HARRY
(interrupting)
Okay! I got it.
Harry looks over his shoulder again to see if people are
still staring.
HARRY
I was there.
The waitress serves Harry his bowl of grits.
WAITRESS
There ya go.
Harry reaches for the salt, but there is none...
HARRY
(calling after waitress)
Can I get some salt?
Joe grabs the salt shaker from his table and slides over to
the chair at Harry's table. He hands him the salt shaker.
JOE
Here you go.
Harry stares down the uninvited guest now sitting at his
table.
Joe doesn't skip a beat.
JOE
My father used to go to the Savoy
in Harlem when he was fifteen years
old to listen to you guys play.
Harry concedes to his uninvited guest. He eats.
JOE
He said you even played outside the
club for two hours after it closed.
Said people were dancing in the
streets until the sun came up.
HARRY
Your father was a musician?
JOE
No, Pharmacist, but he probably has
every jazz album ever made.
HARRY
And he forced you to listen to Jazz
growing up.
JOE
He didn't have to force me. I was
drawn to it. I took piano lessons
when I was six because I wanted to
be like Duke Ellington, clarinet
lessons when I was eight because my
hero was Artie Shaw, trumpet
lessons when I was eleven because I
idolized...
HARRY
(interrupting)
Sachmo.
JOE
Right.
HARRY
So you were a man of many trades?
JOE
But talented at none. So I settled
on the drums when I was twelve
because the calluses were less
severe and the girls seemed to like
drummers.
HARRY
Good a reason as any.
JOE
So what about you? Why did you play
jazz for a living?
Harry ponders.
HARRY
The paycheck.
Joe laughs.
JOE
No, seriously, what made you decide
to play the saxophone for a living?
HARRY
Because the mines weren't hiring
blacks and I couldn't hit a curve
ball. I had a wife at that time to
support.
JOE
Oh.
Joe is disappointed in the answer.
EXT. MAIN STREET. MORNING
Joe and Harry walk down the sidewalk.
An occasional car drives by.
JOE
Listening to Louis play the trumpet
is like watching Mickey Mantle
swing a bat. You can't explain how
he does it, but you know it's
better than anyone else who has
ever tried.
Joe and Harry cross the street.
EXT. SIDEWALK. MORNING
Joe and Harry walk along the sidewalk.
JOE
Jazz didn't just have musicians,
they had icons. They were these
animated, caricatures of men. Louis
Armstrong with those giant lips and
white teeth and Chick Webb, this
tiny dwarf of a man who's head
would barely rise above the drums.
Then you've got "Fatz" Waller,
nearly six feet tall, three hundred
pounds, size fifteen shoe. The man
would eat three New York steaks for
breakfast.
Joe laughs.
JOE
These weren't just men, you know,
these were... these were legends
before jazz was ever legendary.
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD. MORNING
Joe and Harry walk along the sidewalk through a residential
neighborhood.
JOE
The truly great ones just picked up
an instrument and started playing.
It's like they were born with sheet
music clinched in their hands. They
weren't learning to play music,
they were inventing it.
Harry stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Joe stops too.
HARRY
Where the hell are we going?
Harry looks around confused.
JOE
Uh, home...
HARRY
What, are we takin' a long way?
JOE
What do you mean? This isn't the
long wa...
Joe realizes they are on Midvale Avenue. He slowly looks up
to see the little blue house with the street number 116 in
front of them. The realtor's sign in the yard says, "For
Sale".
Joe is suddenly quiet.
HARRY
Hey, you alright?
Joe is fixated on the house.
HARRY
Hey, kid...
Joe snaps out of it.
JOE
Oh, uh, sorry, um, I always take
the long way home... for the
exercise.
Joe continues walking. Harry glances at the little blue house
and then follows Joe.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ HALLWAY. MORNING
Joe and Harry are walking down the hallway.
JOE
I got this Benny Goodman album for
Christmas when I was seven years
old and I had it completely worn
out by New Years Eve. It was one
with Teddy Wilson on the piano and
Gene Kupra behind the drums.
They arrive at Harry's apartment. Harry pulls out his keys
and unlocks the door.
JOE
I can't think of the name of the
album, but it had the song Moonglow
on it...
Harry enters his apartment. Joe stands at the doorway.
JOE
You don't really talk much, do you?
I mean aren't you suppose to have
thousands of great stories about
playing jazz?
HARRY
You don't talk about jazz, kid. You
play it.
Harry slams the door shut. Again, Joe is left standing alone,
staring at a closed door.
JOE
After You've Gone! That's what it
was called.
Joe smiles and walks away.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe sits on the floor against the wall searching through a
box of old records. He drinks a glass of wine.
There are a few less boxes stacked up than there were before.
His apartment is slowly, but surely starting to resemble a
home.
Joe pulls out a record and walks over to the record player.
He places it on the turn style and eases the needle on to the
vinyl.
WEST END BLUES by Louie Armstrong plays. Joe picks up his
glass of wine and slowly begins to sway to the rhythm of the
song.
Joe closes his eyes. He slowly raises his right hand and
begins conducting the song. His instincts as a music teacher
take over.
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE/ FLASHBACK. NIGHT
WEST END BLUES plays.
Rain pounds down upon the windshield of the vehicle.
Samantha, sitting in the passenger seat laughs at something
humorous.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. CONTINUES
WEST END BLUES plays on the record player.
Joe conducts the song with his eyes closed.
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE/ FLASHBACK. CONTINUES
WEST END BLUES continues to play.
Rain pounds down on the windshield.
Jesse drops her stuffed rabbit on the floorboard. She
unlatches her seat belt and climbs onto the floorboard to
retrieve it.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. CONTINUES
WEST END BLUES continues to play.
Joe has completely lost himself within the song. His head
tilts up towards the ceiling. His eyes are closed. He
conducts the improvised SKATS of Louie Armstrong.
INT. JOE'S SPORTS UTILITY VEHICLE. CONTINUES
WEST END BLUE continues to play. The rain pours.
Samantha is leaning over the seat helping Jesse off the
floorboard.
Joe squints, desperately trying to see the road through the
rain.
A faint light is coming towards them on the road.
Samantha helps Jesse back in the seat.
The light on the road grows brighter. It's coming towards
them.
Joe wipes down the windshield with his sleeve.
Suddenly, the pair of headlights are completely visible. They
are coming from a pick up truck driving towards them in the
wrong lane.
Joe immediately turns the steering wheel a sharp right.
Samantha turns around just in time to see the vehicle swerve
off the road and into a tree.
SMASH CUT
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. CONTINUES
Joe opens his eyes.
The song has ended.
The record skips.
The distant sound of the SAXOPHONE can be heard.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. NIGHT
Joe exits the stairway onto the roof.
Joe rounds the corner to REVEAL Harry playing the SAXOPHONE.
Joe stops and listens.
Harry's old black saxophone case sets on the ground. Joe
notices it. Printed in cursive on the case is the name
"Eleanor".
Harry notices Joe. He stops playing.
JOE
I'm sorry. I don't mean to keep
bothering you.
Joe turns around to leave.
HARRY
You pay rent, don't ya?
Joe stops.
JOE
Uh, sure.
Joe anticipates Harry's response.
HARRY
Then I reckon it's your roof too.
Harry begins to play again. Joe stops and listens to the old
timer play.
Joe slowly walks over to the drum set and sits. He hesitantly
picks up his sticks. Joe awaits an opening for him to join
in.
Joe begins to play. Suddenly the stick flies out of his hand
and bounces against the drum and to the ground. In Joe's
clumsiness to retrieve the stick he knocks the cymbals over,
making a LOUD CRASHING SOUND.
Harry stops playing. He watches Joe fumble about and
reposition his cymbals.
JOE
(embarrassed)
Sorry about that.
Joe chuckles nervously. He sits back down at his drums.
Harry begins playing. Joe accompanies him.
The two musicians play on into the night.
EXT. ROOFTOP. DAWN
Joe and Harry sit on the ledge of the roof. The sun has just
risen. Their legs dangle over the side.
Harry smokes a cigar.
JOE
So why did you stop playing
professionally?
HARRY
I'm an old man. It's what you do
when you get old, you retire.
JOE
Why only play at night though?
HARRY
Because that's how I like it. I
don't play for people anymore. The
day of jazz has come and gone. Now
is all people wanna hear is half
naked kids with rings stickin'
outta their faces; singin' bout
havin' sex, and smokin' marijuana,
and slappin' rear ends.
Joe laughs.
JOE
I used to teach music to high
school kids. You should've seen
their faces light up when I would
play them Count Basey for the first
time. They couldn't believe music
that incredible existed. Jazz is
still out there. It's just a little
harder to find these days.
HARRY
Why'd ya quit?
JOE
Uh... I lost my family in a car
accident about six months ago... I
stopped teaching after that.
An awkward pause.
JOE
Who's Eleanor?
Harry raises an eyebrow.
JOE
It's written on your case.
HARRY
Just a name on a case.
JOE
It's the name of your instrument,
Harry, it has to mean something.
Come on, who's Eleanor; a groupie
from San Jose? Someone you had a
torrid fling with in Baton Rouge? A
sled you had when you were a kid?
Harry sighs.
HARRY
(aggravated)
Eleanor was the name of my wife.
Joe looks away.
HARRY
So I guess we have something in
common after all.
Harry stands up. He grabs his saxophone case and exits the
roof.
Joe sits alone on the ledge.
A pigeon lands on the ledge next to Joe. It hops around and
pecks at small concrete pebbles on the roof.
JOE
You again? Back to play some more
music?
The bird isn't shy. It hops around only inches from Joe.
JOE
Maybe we could start a band. What
do you play, the whistle?
Joe laughs.
JOE
You'll get that one later.
The bird flies away. Joe turns around and steps back onto the
roof.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ HALLWAY. CONTINUES
Harry is unlocking the numerous locks he has on his door. Joe
passes Harry on his way back to his apartment.
Joe pulls out his keys to unlock his door.
Benny exits his apartment and quickly approaches them from
behind.
BENNY
I wanna play too.
Joe and Harry turn around.
JOE
What?
BENNY
I wanna play with you guys. I'm a
musician.
HARRY
Don't know what you're talking
about.
BENNY
Oh come on. I'm not an idiot,
you're holding a saxophone case.
Just give me a chance. I mean, the
least you could do is listen to me
play; an audition or something.
HARRY
You don't meet the requirements.
BENNY
The requirements? I've been playing
the guitar since I was six. I won
the South Carolina state guitar
competition three years in a row.
I'm the best guitar player I know,
what requirement don't I meet?
Benny looks to Harry for an answer, then to Joe...
JOE
... A broken heart.
Harry looks at Joe. He enters his apartment and shuts the
door.
Benny gives up. He turns and walks back down the hallway.
Joe stands alone in the hallway. He watches Benny walking
away.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. DAY
Joe stands in front of the kitchen table where the cordless
phone rests. He stares at it.
Joe picks up the phone and dials.
JOE
(on phone)
Hey, Maggie, what are you doing
today?
INT. REVIVAL MOVIE THEATRE. DAY
The revival theatre is scattered with movie goers. The
classic love story, Roman Holiday is playing.
Maggie and Joe are watching the movie. Joe looks as if he's
about to fall asleep, while Maggie is completely caught up in
the film.
FADE TO:
INT. REVIVAL MOVIE THEATRE. LATER
The revival theatre is scattered with movie goers. The final
scene of Roman Holiday is playing.
Maggie is enjoying the classic love story. She looks over at
Joe, he is asleep.
EXT. REVIVAL MOVIE THEATRE. DAY
The Marquee above the theatre reads: "Roman Holiday".
Joe and Maggie exit the theatre. They make their way down a
semi-crowded sidewalk.
MAGGIE
So, what did you think, Joe?
JOE
About what, the movie? Uh, I liked
it... a lot. Fine film indeed.
MAGGIE
(grinning)
Yeah? What was your favorite part?
JOE
My favorite part? Definitely the
Romans. I thought they were
convincing. And I had no clue that
they actually took holidays, so I
learned something as well.
Maggie laughs.
MAGGIE
You're such a liar. You hated it.
You slept through the last half.
JOE
Yes I did. Most painful ninety
minutes of my life.
MAGGIE
(laughing)
I knew it.
JOE
When I suggested a movie I was
thinking something with action or a
funny animal that talks... you
know, something made in color.
MAGGIE
You said I could pick the movie.
JOE
I know. Never again, but I know.
Maggie laughs.
MAGGIE
You seem in good spirits lately.
JOE
I feel good.
MAGGIE
You still jogging at night?
JOE
No, Dr. Reynolds, not for a while
now.
MAGGIE
Good.
JOE
I actually made a friend.
MAGGIE
Really?
JOE
He lives in my apartment building.
His name is Harry. He plays the
saxophone.
MAGGIE
He sounds nice.
JOE
Oh, no, meanest guy you'll ever
meet.
MAGGIE
Oh.
JOE
Could make grown men cry. I'll have
to introduce you to him sometime.
He's cool.
MAGGIE
(unenthusiastically)
Yeah.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. DAY
Joe is hanging a spice rack on the wall in his kitchen. He
finishes hammering in the last nail and positions the rack on
the wall.
Joe steps back and admires his work. The rack hangs alone on
the wall.
Joe opens a cabinet and searches through it. He pulls out a
single shaker of salt and places it on the rack by itself.
There is SHOUTING coming from outside. Joe walks over to the
window...
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING. DAY
Rachelle is walking away from the apartment building carrying
a suitcase and a back pack over her shoulder. Benny chases
after her.
RACHELLE
Get away from me, Benny!
BENNY
Rachelle, come on, will you stop
for just a second! Where are you
going?
RACHELLE
I'm leaving!
BENNY
Don't do this! You know I love you!
RACHELLE
No, you love your music, and your
band, and those groupie sluts that
hang around all the time.
Rachelle tosses her bags in the back of her old pick-up
truck.
BENNY
Can we talk about this, please!?
RACHELLE
No! And don't try to call me
either!
Rachelle gets in her truck and starts the engine.
BENNY
You're being stupid, Rachelle! You
know that!?
Rachelle peals away from the apartment building.
BENNY
(yelling at the truck
speeding away)
You know I have to rehearse! God
damn it!
Benny stomps back towards the apartment building. He looks up
to see Joe watching from his apartment window.
Benny looks two windows over and notices Harry watching as
well.
Benny enters the apartment building.
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT/ HALLWAY. DAY
Harry opens the front door and peeks out into the hallway.
Benny is walking quickly down the hallway.
BENNY
(muffled yell)
Damn it!
Benny violently kicks the wall. He stumbles to the ground in
pain.
Benny rolls over and sets against the wall. He drops his head
down. His anger fades into sorrow.
Harry watches discretely from his apartment door.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. NIGHT
Harry is cleaning out the reed of his saxophone, while Joe is
playing a SOFT BEAT on the drums.
The apartment building right next to their's is slightly
larger in height. TWO YOUNG BROTHERS, twins, six years old,
wearing pajamas, open their bedroom window and look out onto
the roof of the neighboring apartment building where Joe and
Harry are.
Joe notices the two young brothers. He waves to them. They
giggle and wave back. Joe smiles.
JOE
Looks like we're gonna have an
audience tonight.
Joe motions to the neighboring window. Harry looks.
The two young brothers duck beneath the window pane. The
giggling can still be heard.
HARRY
(annoyed)
They should be asleep.
Joe grins.
JOE
You know any good lullabies?
Benny enters the rooftop with his guitar case. There are bags
under his eyes and his hair is uncombed.
Harry and Joe notice him.
Joe looks at Harry for approval.
Harry contemplates...
HARRY
We play jazz, the blues, and a
little rag time. Nothing else. No
rap music, no pop music, no heavy
metal or grunge. No country or
reggae or world music. No polka,
techno, classical, or gospel. And
we certainly don't play no Broadway
musicals. If you can't keep up, you
get the hell off my roof.
BENNY
Okay.
Harry immediately turns his attention back to cleaning his
saxophone.
A crooked smile appears on Benny's face. He looks at Joe. Joe
raises an eyebrow and nods.
Benny eagerly opens his guitar case.
EXT. BEACH. NIGHT
The Moonlight glows off the surface of the ocean. The water
is calm this evening
Suddenly it begins to rain. Tiny droplets of rain bounce off
the surface of the ocean.
EXT. ROOFTOP. NIGHT
It is raining. The trio is playing Nearness of You.
They are all three soaked by the rain, but no one heads for
cover.
Joe watches Benny strum on the bass guitar, while he keeps a
steady rhythm on the drums.
Harry plays the saxophone as if nobody else is around.
The rain trickles down Joe's cheeks. Sadness creeps across
his face.
INT. JESSE'S BEDROOM/ FLASHBACK. NIGHT
A record is spinning on the record player. The song Nearness
of You, by Ella Fitzgerald and Louie Armstrong is playing
softly.
A blue night light glows, barely giving light to the bedroom.
Jesse is asleep in her bed. Joe lies next to her, listening
to the music, watching his daughter sleep. She appears so
innocent, so precious in her slumber.
Joe brushes a strand of hair softly from her brow. A peaceful
expression overcomes Joe's face.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. CONTINUES
The rain continues to fall, yet the three musicians play on.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. DAWN
The sun has just peeked above the horizon.
Joe and Benny are drying themselves off with towels.
Harry closes his sax case and walks towards the stairway.
HARRY
Good night.
JOE
Good morning.
Harry disappears down the stairs.
JOE
So what are you doing right now?
BENNY
I was thinking about going to bed.
Don't you sleep, Joe?
JOE
Nah, I don't like the silence. It
gives me headaches. You wanna go
get some coffee?
Benny looks at Joe strangely.
EXT. BATTING CAGES. DAY
A YOUNG MAN swings and hits a softball deep into the cages.
Joe and Benny are searching for an empty cage to use. They
each carry a bat and a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
BENNY
Jeez, Joe, when you said coffee I
was thinking a cafe or a donut
shop.
JOE
Nah, Joltin' Joe's Batting Cages
has the best coffee in town.
Samantha and I used to come here
every morning before work to grab a
cup of coffee, hit a few balls.
BENNY
Samantha was your wife?
JOE
Yeah.
(...)
So why did your girlfriend leave?
BENNY
She thinks that I sleep around on
her. That I'm not faithful or
completely committed to her...
which I guess is sorta true.
JOE
The sleeping around?
BENNY
The commitment. Sometimes I guess I
put all of my energy into my music.
JOE
It's a tough balance. Some of the
great musicians have struggled with
that very thing.
They find a cage that's not being occupied.
Benny kneels down to tie his shoe.
BENNY
But what she doesn't understand is,
if I don't rehearse, how am I
suppose to become great?
JOE
I guess that depends on what you
want to become great at.
Benny stands.
BENNY
It's pointless now, she won't
return my phone calls.
JOE
Right, because I'm sure
reconciliation was impossible
before the invention of the
telephone.
Benny is struck by a thought.
BENNY
I should've played for her more. I
didn't do that enough, you know.
Benny enters the batting cage.
JOE
Hey, Benny...
Benny turns around.
JOE
Don't forget the helmet.
Joe tosses Benny the helmet. He puts it on.
Benny faces Joe, with his back to the pitching machine.
BENNY
Of course it didn't help that she
could be a total bitch.
Suddenly the pitching machine pitches a baseball the smacks
Benny squarely in the back of the helmet. Benny collapses to
the ground.
EXT. HARRY'S APARTMENT/ HALLWAY. EVENING
Joe knocks on Harry's door. He waits. No one answers.
Joe knocks again. And again.
HARRY (o.s.)
(slurred)
Hold on, God damn it.
Suddenly a CRASHING sound and the BREAKING of glass can be
heard from inside.
Joe knocks again.
JOE
Harry... Is everything okay?
Joe knocks again, harder. No one responds.
Joe rushes away.
EXT. HARRY'S APARTMENT/ HALLWAY. MOMENTS LATER
Joe and the apartment manager, MR. GUARDADO, a timid, rollie
pollie of a man, are at Harry's front door. Mr. Guardado is
searching through a ring of keys for the right one.
JOE
Mr. Guardado, can you please hurry?
MR. GUARDADO
(foreign accent)
I can't find Mister Davis's key,
oh, here it is.
Mr. Guardado clumsily unlocks the door.
Joe rushes into Harry's apartment.
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT. CONTINUES
The apartment is dark except for the glow of the television
and a small table lamp.
A couple liquor bottles rest on top of the kitchen table. A
few more are scattered across the counter.
Joe rushes into the apartment. He frantically looks around.
Joe notices Harvey passed out on the ground holding a
shattered picture frame. He rushes to attend to him.
JOE
Harry, are you alright? Harry?
Joe tries propping him up. He gently slaps Harry a couple
times on the cheek.
Mr. Guardado stands at the doorway.
MR. GUARDADO
(foreign accent)
Is he dead?
Harry moans.
JOE
He's fine, Mr. Guardado. Thank you
for your help.
Mr. Guardado shuffles away.
Harry incoherently grumbles
HARRY
(grumbling)
Eleanor...
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT. EVENING
Harry sits, hunched over at the kitchen table while Joe makes
a pot of coffee.
HARRY
I said that I'm fine. You can leave
now.
JOE
I'm making coffee.
HARRY
I don't like coffee.
JOE
Well, then pretend it's a root beer
float.
HARRY
You aggravate me.
JOE
I've noticed.
Joe sets a broken picture frame on the table in front of
Harry.
JOE
I found this on the ground.
The glass is broken. The picture is of Harry's late wife,
Eleanor. She's a beautiful woman, large smile, pearly white
teeth. She appears to be in her mid thirties.
There is a noticeable vulnerability surrounding Harry that
wasn't there before.
JOE
Is that your wife?
Harry's vulnerability disappears.
HARRY
It's just a picture in a frame.
Joe sets a cup of coffee in front of Harry. Joe sits at the
table with a cup of his own.
JOE
She's pretty.
HARRY
Go away.
JOE
I probably have two boxes full of
pictures of my wife and daughter.
Samantha was a photographer, so she
took pictures of everything: our
first date, second date, the
wedding... the honeymoon...
Joe grins.
JOE
I think she took something like
eight rolls of our daughter's first
step. If you flip through them
really fast you can watch the
entire day.
Harry grins, but is quick to hide it.
JOE
I remember I use to tell her, "Sam,
what are we ever gonna do with all
these pictures? Why do we need ten
different angles of Jesse opening
up her birthday present?"
Joe smiles at the thought. The smile fades.
JOE
But now I know why. Is all I wish
is that I had more. More of Jesse
riding that pony at the State Fair.
More of her waiting outside for the
school bus to pick her up. Maybe
one of her graduating high school
or in a wedding dress... but I'll
never have any pictures of that.
Joe's voice cracks briefly.
JOE
It's like Sam knew I was gonna need
all of those photographs someday.
And now, I wish I had just one
more.
Joe and Harry sit in silence.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ HALLWAY/ STAIRS. EVENING
The hallway is empty.
Joe exits his apartment carrying his drum sticks. He walks
down the hall.
Harry exits his apartment carrying his saxophone case. He
follows Joe down the hall.
Benny exits his apartment carrying his guitar case. He
follows Joe and Harry down the hall.
The three musicians turn right and head up the staircase
towards the roof.
Joe opens the door at the top of the stairs. He stops. Harry
and Benny stop behind him.
EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING/ ROOFTOP. CONTINUES
Joe, Harry, and Benny stand at the doorway.
A section of the rooftop is covered with freshly laid tar.
There are orange safety cones with yellow caution tape across
them, blocking off the roof.
BENNY
What is that smell?
Benny covers his nose.
JOE
Tar.
HARRY
What do we do now?
They ponder.
JOE
We could go out.
INT. JOE'S APARTMENT. NIGHT
Joe is talking on the phone while getting ready.
He is somewhat dressed up; wearing a nice black Cashmere
sweater and pair of slacks.
Joe looks in the mirror. He experiments with different ways
of combing his hair while he talks on the phone.
There is life in his voice.
JOE
(on the phone)
Maggie, it's Joe. What are you
doing tonight? ..... Oh, great. Let
me ask you a question... Do you
like jazz music?
Joe fluffs a strand of his hair with his fingers.
EXT. HARRY'S APARTMENT/ HALLWAY. NIGHT
Joe knocks on the door. Benny stands beside him. Both men are
dressed for a night on the town.
Joe knocks again.
Harry opens the door. He is wearing his brown bathrobe.
JOE
Hey...
Joe notices the bathrobe.
JOE
You're wearing that?
HARRY
I've decided not to go. Good night.
Harry closes the door.
Joe smiles at Benny.
Joe knocks continuously on the door.
JOE
Harry, open the door.
Harry opens the door.
HARRY
What?
JOE
What are you doing? We're going
out.
HARRY
I can't.
JOE
Why not?
Harry searches for an excuse...
HARRY
(yelling)
Because I don't fucking want to!
Harry starts to slam the door...
Joe forcefully sticks his foot in the way. His foot holds the
door halfway open.
JOE
(sternly)
Do not slam the door on me again...
(then weakens)
... please. Now if you will, go
back inside, take a shower, put on
something that includes a pair of
pants, and Benny here is gonna
drive us to Charleston in his 1976
Ford Mustang.
Benny clears his throat. He leans forward towards Joe.
BENNY
(cautiously)
Uh, seventy-seven.
Joe rolls his eyes.
JOE
... Seventy-seven Ford Mustang.
Harry stares down Joe.
Joe stares back, although blinks once. He fidgets with the
lining of his sweater.
Harry slowly backs away from the door while maintaining his
dominating stare. He disappears into the apartment.
Joe breathes a sigh of relief. He turns back towards Benny
and smiles confidently.
INT. BENNY'S CAR. NIGHT
Benny is in the driver's seat, Harry in the passenger, and
Joe is crammed in the back.
HARRY
This is a seventy-six mustang you
say?
BENNY
Seventy-seven.
HARRY
Hhhmm... yeah, seventy-six was a
good year for the mustang. Fine car
indeed. But you say this is a
seventy-eight?
BENNY
Uh, no, seventy-seven.
HARRY
Seventy-seven. Didn't the seventy
seven Mustang have a recall on it?
Something about brake malfunctions?
BENNY
Uh, I don't think so, no.
HARRY
Yeah, I think they did. People were
driving off bridges and plowing
into light poles. Have you had the
brakes replaced on this 1977
deathtrap?
BENNY
Uh, no, I haven't.
HARRY
Hhhmm... yeah, we'll be lucky to
make it to Charleston and back
alive in this thing.
Too bad you didn't go for the
seventy-six... was a fine year for
the Mustang.
Benny looks concerned. He nods.
JOE
Hey, Benny, would you mind if we
swing by and pick up a friend?
Benny acknowledges him.
EXT. MAGGIE'S HOUSE. NIGHT
Joe rings the doorbell.
Maggie answers the door. She is looking radiant in a tight
black dress. Her hair is pulled back behind her ears
revealing a small pair of diamond earrings.
Joe takes in her beauty.
JOE
Hi.
MAGGIE
Hey.
JOE
You look... uh, you look very nice,
Maggie.
MAGGIE
Thanks, Joe. You're lookin' pretty
good yourself.
Maggie playfully socks Joe in the arm.
JOE
Uh, are you ready to go?
MAGGIE
Yes.
Maggie closes the front door behind her. They make their way
down the walk way towards the car.
JOE
Alright, just so you can't say I
didn't warn you, when you meet
Harry, he might seem a little...
much at first.
There are definitely gonna be
moments through out the evening
when you're gonna want to drop kick
him, but you gotta try your best to
resist the urge. Just remember,
attacking senior citizens is
frowned upon in South Carolina.
Joe and Maggie reach the car. Harry is standing outside the
car.
HARRY
And who is this stunning young
lady?
Maggie extends her hand.
MAGGIE
I'm Maggie.
Harry grabs Maggie's hand and kisses it.
Joe watches in shock.
HARRY
It's wonderful to meet you, my
dear. I had no clue when Joseph
said we'd have a guest joining us
this evening that she would be half
as beautiful as you.
MAGGIE
Aahh, thank you, Harry. Joe's told
me such wonderful things about you.
Maggie starts to climb in the back seat.
HARRY
And they're all one hundred percent
true. Here, let me help you.
Harry takes her hand and helps her into the back seat.
Joe looks at Harry strangely.
JOE
Did you call me Joseph?
HARRY
I'll tell you what, why don't you
take the front seat. There's more
room, thata way you don't wrinkle
your pants. Them are some fine
pants you're wearing tonight.
Harry smiles. He slaps Joe lightly on the cheek a couple
times and then climbs in the back.
HARRY (o.s.)
Now did Joe tell you I'm a
musician?
MAGGIE (o.s.)
He might have mentioned it.
Joe raises an eyebrow and exhales. He climbs into the
passenger's seat.
EXT. CHARLESTON SKYLINE. NIGHT
The city near the sea is full of energy. The restaurants and
boutiques are lit up brightly.
EXT. DURANTE'S BAR. NIGHT
The black mustang pulls up in front of the small downtown
bar.
The awning over the entrance reads: "Durante's - Jazz Music
Nightly".
The Bouncer, SHELLY, an older, husky black man, stands at the
door.
Benny, Joe, Harry, and Maggie pile out of the car.
Shelly immediately recognizes Harry.
SHELLY
Is that the great Harry Davis or
are my eyes failing me?
HARRY
At our age I'd put my money on your
eyes failing you.
Shelly lets out a thunderous laugh.
They shake hands.
HARRY
How you doin', Shelly?
SHELLY
Not too bad, Harry. I ain't seen
your ugly mug in years.
(softly to Harry)
I done heard me a rumor you killed
a prostitute and had to leave the
country.
HARRY
Close, I backed over a mailbox and
had my license revoked.
Shelly unleashes another thunderous laugh.
SHELLY
It's so good to see you, Harry.
HARRY
You too, Shell. Hey, do any of the
fellas still hang out here?
SHELLY
Hang out? Hell, they ain't left in
twenty-five years. They's wives
won't let em' back in them's houses
anymore.
Harry laughs. He pats Shelly on the back.
HARRY
Alright, Shell... I'll catch you
later.
Harry enters the club.
Maggie follows.
SHELLY
Mam'.
Maggie smiles.
Shelly stops Benny at the door. Joe hangs back to make sure
everything is okay.
SHELLY
Hold on there. You got an I.D.,
Boy?
BENNY
Uh, yeah...
Benny pulls out his wallet. He hands Shelly his I.D.
SHELLY
(reading)
Benjamin Bernard King.
Benny looks away embarrassed.
Joe grins.
JOE
B.B. King.
BENNY
(annoyed)
I had unoriginal parents.
SHELLY
Well, B.B., your folks should've
had you a year earlier, because
twenty ain't gettin' you into this
club.
BENNY
What? Come on, I go to bars all the
time.
SHELLY
Not to this bar you don't.
Harry pokes his head back out of the club.
HARRY
Shelly, it's cool, Cat... He's with
me.
Shelly eyes Benny for a couple seconds.
SHELLY
Alright, Harry...
Shelly nods for Benny to enter.
Benny smiles.
BENNY
Thanks a lot, Cat.
Benny pats Shelly on his large shoulder.
Shelly gives Benny a dirty look. He eyes him all the way into
the club.
INT. DURANTE'S BAR. NIGHT
The bar and jazz club is straight out of the 1930's. It
resembles a classic Speak Easy.
A full bar is located near the front. A BARTENDER stands
behind the bar reading a newspaper.
Several tables are scattered through out.
An orchestra pit is near the back. An old wooden dance floor
resides in front of it.
The bar is empty except for a table of elderly men sitting in
the corner: RIZZIE, late 60's, African American, powder white
hair, raspy voice, COLEMAN, late 60's, African American,
skinny, uses a cane, SIMON, late 60's, African American,
portly, and SANCHEZ, late 60's, Mexican.
The four old timers are smoking cigars and drinking scotch.
Laughter fills the room. A cloud of smoke lingers above the
table.
Harry is spotted.
RIZZIE
Well I'll be, lock up your liquor
cabinets and hide your women,
fellas, because here comes The
Duke.
The others spot Harry across the room.
Harry smiles big. He starts walking in their direction.
HARRY
Nah, I ain't the Duke. I'm just
some lowly ole' saxophone player
that made $37 a week and slept in
the back of a Buick, but if that
liquor cabinet ain't locked and
your old lady's sittin' by her
lonesome, I'm gonna have me a good
ole' time tonight, boys.
Harry shakes the hands of the old timers sitting around the
table. They are excited to see each other.
COLEMAN
How've you been, Harry?
HARRY
Hangin' in there.
SIMON
Boy, you is lookin' like an old
man.
Grumbled laughter spreads across the table.
SANCHEZ
Well I don't know. I'd say Harry is
as pretty as he ever was... which
ain't sayin' much.
More laughter.
Rizzie stands up from his chair to shake Harry's hand.
HARRY
How ya doin' old timer?
RIZZIE
Aahh, I got arthritis in my hands
and it hurts when I piss.
HARRY
I told you that girl was no good.
Rizzie chokes out a laugh. He leans in close to Harry.
RIZZIE
(softly)
You get that dead prostitute thing
takin' care of?
HARRY
It's fine. The post office replaced
her with a new one.
Harry pats him on the back.
Rizzie looks confused.
Coleman notices Joe, Maggie, and Benny.
COLEMAN
Who you bring with you, Harry.
JOE
Oh, uh, I'm Harry's neighbor Joe.
And this is his other neighbor,
Benjamin Bernard...
BENNY
(interrupting Joe)
Benny.
Simon appears to recognize Benny.
JOE
And this is Maggie.
All four old timers stand up from their chairs to shake
Maggie's hand.
SIMON
It's nice to meet you.
SANCHEZ
Hola.
COLEMAN
I'm Coleman O'Connor, Mam'. You may
recognize me.
RIZZIE
Why the hell would she recognize
you, ya old fart?
COLEMAN
From my radio show.
SANCHEZ
That was thirty-five years ago.
RIZZIE
And it was radio... Hello, Mam',
I'm Reginald Mizzie, but my friends
call me Rizzie.
COLEMAN
You ain't got no friends, Reginald.
Maggie can barely keep up with all the hand shakes and
introductions. She giggles and indulges their flirtations.
SIMON
And which one of these lucky fellas
are you here with this evening,
darlin'?
HARRY
Me...
Sanchez whispers to Coleman...
SANCHEZ
(softly)
I hope she ain't a prostitute.
HARRY
And don't any of you toads go
gettin' any wild ideas.
RIZZIE
Nah, we's all boy scouts at this
table. But with all do respect,
Mam', ya could've done better.
The table is filled with laughter.
INT. DURANTE'S BAR/ TABLE. LATER
The entire group is sitting around the table: Simon, Rizzie,
Sanchez, Coleman, Harry, Maggie, Joe, and Benny.
The old timers smoke their cigars and talk loudly.
SIMON
Nobody went and invented Jazz. It
just happened without nobody
meanin' to do it.
SANCHEZ
Sorta like Simon's kids...
There is laughter at the table.
SANCHEZ
His wife didn't mean to sleep with
him...
The laughter continues.
SIMON
Now you talkin' bout' the two kids
I had with my wife or with yours?
More laughter.
RIZZIE
Jelly Roll Morton claimed to have
invented jazz.
HARRY
Ahh, Jelly Roll could barely play
jazz, let alone invent the son of
gun.
Joe, Benny, and Maggie are enjoying listening to the old
timers banter back and forth.
RIZZIE
It's the blues that