The first time I heard the word Portagee, I had no idea what it meant. I thought it was like, you know, when you call Tom - Tommy...just a nickname.
(a beat)
But I fucking learned to hate that word. And anyone who said it.
(turning to Grace)
All I ever wanted was to just fit in. You know?
Be American.
Just a regular Joe.
He sits back down on the stoop next to Grace. Grabs her notebook, leafs through it.
JOHNNY:
You know Grace. I’m not smart like you. But on that street, I’m a real big deal. I ain’t just another dumb Portagee. I’m Johnny FUCKING Vieira.
(a beat)
I got really good at hustling. But I never felt good about it.
116 INT. TREMONT BAR & LOUNGE - NIGHT
The dimly lit, smoke-filled bar is packed. Old drunks stagger out, hard-looking girls smoke cigarettes, chug beers.
An out-of-uniform Billy Maguire leans up against the bar nursing a beer ... peering over at Johnny and Fat Manny sharing a booth.
Johnny rubs the dark circles under his eyes - distraught, haunted with guilt over Tommy.
JOHNNY (to Manny):
That’s it. I’m done. I’m fuckin’ out of here.
FAT MANNY:
What are you nuts? We finally make it in and you wanna get out. That ain’t what Tommy would want.
JOHNNY:
For Christ sakes Manny. We were all so fuckin’ wasted. We laughed when he jumped...laughed.
FAT MANNY:
Johnny. Tommy was a wild man. You know all that shit was gonna catch up to him. His luck just ran out.
Johnny SLAMS his fist on the table. Maguire turns around.
JOHNNY:
That’s just it, Manny. We’ve been lucky too long. And I’m just sick and tired of pretending the shit we’re doing ain’t wrong.
(a beat)
Between Tommy and that little Souza kid...
FAT MANNY (interrupting):
None of that was your fault. You wasn’t the one sellin’ the Souza kid drugs.
JOHNNY:
Manny, he was FUCKING 12 years old.
FAT MANNY (callously):
Tough shit. People OD every day. Anyways, where you gonna make that kind of money?
(laughing)
You gonna get yourself a real job? Flipping burgers at Burger King?
(downing his beer)
And what? You think O’Leary’s gonna let you just walk away.
JOHNNY:
I KNOW how to keep my mouth shut. O’Leary knows that.
CLOSE VIEW ON: Billy Maguire, downing his beer, his eyes BORE into Johnny. He pulls out his phone, walks out of the bar.
CUT TO:
117 INT. FATIMA’S AND EDDIE’S BEDROOM - MORNING
In his underwear, Eddie is rummaging through drawers - yanking things out, making a mess.
Wearing her bathrobe, Fatima walks in.
EDDIE (yelling):
Where the hell are my cut-offs?
He pulls out her new red bathing suit.
EDDIE (holding it up):
What the hell is this?
FATIMA:
It’s nothin.’ It’s just a bathing suit. I thought ... maybe, I could wear something pretty. You know, for a change.
Eddie gets aggressively closer to Fatima.
EDDIE:
Don’t be STUPID.
Holding the bathing suit, he heads towards the kitchen.
118 INT. KITCHEN
He opens up a drawer, pulls out a scissors.
EDDIE:
Here’s what I think of your new look.
Eddie cuts up the bathing suit.
FATIMA:
Eddie, stop it. Please.
She grabs for the bathing suit, he HITS her hard with the back of his hand. She falls back. But this time - GETS UP, goes for his face. Scratches it deep.
Eddie drops the bathing suit and scissors.
EDDIE:
You bitch.
He grabs her throat, choking her.
A Child CRIES OUT:
MOMMY!
119 EXT. OUTSIDE OF FATIMA AND EDDIE’S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS
Dressed for the beach, Grace rings the apartment door bell several times. NO answer.
Heads towards the back porch. Runs up two flights of stairs. Knocks on the back door. NO answer.
GRACE (pushing open the door):
Hey, it’s me.
120 INT. KITCHEN
Sitting on the floor, little Linda, in her bathing suit, sporting little swimming goggles.
GRACE:
Hey pumpkin, where’s mommy?
Linda points towards the bedroom.
LITTLE LINDA:
We still going to the beach?
GRACE:
Yeah, sure we are.
Nearby an open scissors and slivers of the red bathing suit litter the floor. Grace picks up the scissors, heads towards the bedroom.
121 INT. BEDROOM
A still body lies in bed, covers pulled fully over head.
GRACE (concerned):
Fatima. You ok?
No answer. Walks closer.
GRACE:
Fatima. Querida. Honey. Are you alright?
Grace slowly pulls off the covers.
RECOILS. As her sister’s matted hair and badly swollen face is revealed.
Grace gently touches Fatima’s face.
GRACE (crying):
Oh Fatima, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.
FATIMA (softly):
It’s not ... it’s not your fault.
GRACE:
That’s it! You’re leaving. Right now.
FATIMA:
You don’t understand.
GRACE (calmly):
No, you’re right. I don’t. I don’t understand at all. That monster almost killed you.
(pause)
How much more are you going to take?
Fatima pulls the covers over her head ... sobs.
GRACE:
I’m calling Johnny.
122 INT. FATIMA AND EDDIE’S KITCHEN - LATER
Eddie, whistling, walks through the door, carrying a cooler.
EDDIE (breezing in as if nothing happened):
Hey Fatima, I’m home. Guess what I have? Lobstas ... your favorite.
SILENCE.
EDDIE:
Fatima, you home?
Stepping on the slivers of the red bathing suit, he enters the bedroom, carrying the cooler.
123 INT. BEDROOM
The bed is unmade. The closet door is wide open. Fatima’s clothes are missing.
EDDIE:
You Bitch!! You friggin’ Bitch!
He whips the cooler on the floor. The lid flips open. Water and lobsters spill out. The floor is filled with seaweed and lobsters crawling every which way.
124 INT. VIEIRA APARTMENT HALL INCESSANT DOORBELL RINGING - CONTINUOUS
Grace lifts the front door curtain. Eddie’s ENRAGED FACE PRESSES UP AGAINST THE GLASS.
GRACE:
Go AWAY Eddie. She’s never going back to you.
EDDIE:
Open the friggin’ door. She’s my wife. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.
GRACE:
She’s MY sister. It has everything to do with me.
125 INT. KITCHEN
Fatima and her crying kids huddle around the table.
DOOR BELL RINGS. RINGS. RINGS.
Fatima starts to get up.
Bella presses both hands down on Fatima’s shoulders - NODDING TO HER - NO.
126 EXT. OUTSIDE DOOR
Eddie BANGS on the front door with his fists - HARD!
EDDIE:
Grace, open the door. NOW! She’s MY God damn wife.
GRACE:
Go to hell, Eddie. Get out of here or I’m calling the cops.
Eddie KICKS the door.
EDDIE:
Little bitch. You’re just like your bitch sister.
CUT TO:
127 EXT. PLUM ISLAND - A FEW DAYS LATER
Wooden lobster trap cages bob up and down along the coastline. Eddie, dressed in scuba gear, sits on the rocks transferring lobsters from a cage into a cooler.
He’s drinking beer, tossing the crashed cans into the ocean.
JOHNNY:
You got a permit for those lobsters?
Johnny moves in closer to Eddie.
EDDIE:
Who the hell are you? The lobsta’ police?
JOHNNY:
Yeah, I guess you could say that.
From behind his back, Johnny pulls out an aluminum baseball bat.
BAM! HITS Eddie right across the stomach, then rams it into his back.
Eddie is SCREAMING.
JOHNNY (in a RAGE):
You think you’re a big man beating up on women. The only reason you ain’t a dead man Eddie is ‘cause my sister loves those kids too much.
Johnny raises his foot and VICIOUSLY kicks Eddie in the head.
128 INT. CATHOLIC CHURCH - CONTINUOUS
Fatima‘s black eye is covered up with make-up. She fusses with her bangs to cover up the bruise.
She’s sitting in a church pew next to Grace and Bella - all holding open their book of scriptures, following along with the Mass.
An old, pasty white priest dressed in elaborate vestments stands in front of an ornate altar. He places his hands on the pulpit, rising taller as he opens the bible.
PRIEST (beady eyes peer through thin-framed glasses):
Genesis 3:16 ... Unto the woman I said I will greatly multiply thy sorrow and thy conception. In sorrow though shalt bring forth children and thy desire shall be thy husbands. And he shall rule over thee.
Fatima bites her bottom lip as Grace SHUTS her book, tossing it onto the pew.
Embarrassed, Bella looks around nervously, hoping no one noticed Grace’s book toss.
Grace reaches over, takes hold of her sister’s hand.
CUT TO:
129 INT. DRY CLEANERS - CLOSING TIME, NEXT DAY
Grace is behind the counter. Joey, still in work clothes, stands opposite her. She’s pointing her finger in his face.
The door BELL CHIMES. Alex, looking DAPPER, enters - carrying a bundle of shirts.
Grace stops talking. Joey raises his hands in a WHATEVER, ‘I give up’ fashion. Barges out the door, bumping into Alex.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Are you okay?
Grace nods yes.
Alex glances out the window as Joey gets in his car and speeds away.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Who was that?
GRACE (flatly):
Nobody.
130 EXT. DRY CLEANERS PARKING LOT
Still in the parking lot, Alex is shooting the breeze with Turtle.
Grace walks into the lot looking around.
GRACE (to Turtle):
Where’s Joey?
TURTLE:
I dunno. He was here a minute ago.
GRACE:
Okay then. Bye. See you next week.
TURTLE (surprised):
Ain’t you gonna wait for him?
GRACE:
Nope.
Grace waves goodbye.
TURTLE:
You wanna ride?
GRACE:
No thanks. I feel like walking.
Turtle shrugs his turtle-like shoulders. Alex gets into his car.
131 EXT. BROADWAY LIQUORS
From the outside of the small liquor store window, hangs a big poster: Massachusetts ‘A Dollar & A Dream’ Lottery ... “Play & Win Millions Today.”
Joey sits in his car, his hands clenching the steering wheel. He stares at the sign the same way a junkie longs for crack.
132 EXT. A BLOCK FROM THE DRY CLEANERS
From his car, Alex spots Grace walking and pulls up beside her.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Hey, hop in. I’ll give you a ride.
GRACE:
Thanks, I’m fine.
Leaning over the passenger’s seat, Alex swings opens the car door.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Come on. It’s just a ride.
Grace hesitates … gets in.
133 INT. ALEX’S CAR
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Grace. I’m really, really sorry. I had no idea.
GRACE:
You stand up there teaching all these high and mighty moral lessons. And yet, you still judged me. Why ... Because I work in a dry cleaners?
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
I have no excuse. I fell right into the trap. I’m a big fat elitist jerk.
GRACE:
Clearly ... Maybe you should think about teaching a different kind of class.
Grace folds her arms, turns her face away and stares straight out the car window.
AWKWARD SILENCE.
ALEX MCPHEARSON (trying to lighten the mood):
So, how did you end up at Tufts?
GRACE:
Scholarship. I’m the first. The first to graduate from high school. Go to college. You know, your “American Dream” poster child.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Clearly.
(a beat)
Listen. Maybe I can make things up to you.
Grace shoots him an uncertain ‘Like how?’ look.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Let’s go grab a coffee.
GRACE:
I thought this was just a ride.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Okay, then. We’ll get it to go.
Grace finally smiles, giving in.
134 INT. NEIGHBORHOOD DUNKIN’ DONUTS
All the Portuguese locals STARE as Grace stands at the counter with tall, blonde Alex.
GRACE:
Hi, Senhora Medeiros. Two regulars please.
Senhora Medeiros gives an UNSUBTLE head nod towards Alex.
Senhora Medeiros (in Portuguese):
Who is this man?
GRACE (in Portuguese):
My professor. From school.
With a DISAPPROVING look, Senhora Medeiros hands Grace the coffees and waves away Alex’s money. He places the money in the tip jar.
With every eyeball on them, Alex and Grace walk over and sit at a corner table.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
So this is your neighborhood?
GRACE:
Yep. These are my people.
Looks over at Senhora Medeiros.
That’s Joey’s aunt.
Senhora Medeiros GLARES over - all old world nosey, up in your business... She picks up the phone. DIALS.
ALEX:
Joey. The boyfriend?
Grace rolls her thumb around her naked ring finger.
ALEX:
So what were you two fighting about?
GRACE:
Things.
Wanting to change the subject - Grace smiles across the room - EYES each one of her nosey neighbors ... one by one.
GRACE (proudly describes her tribe to Alex):
They all came here with nothing. That’s Senhor Cabral. He now owns the fish market. Over there is Maria, she runs the beauty shop. Turtle - you know. And Senhora Medeiros. She and her husband own TEN Dunkin’ Donuts. They’re loaded. But every day, she still comes in here and works that counter.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
Sounds like they figured out how to buy themselves their own boat.
Grace shoots him a ‘Wow. You were actually listening’ look.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
I gather your plan is to one day own one of those boats.
(drawing with his hand in the air)
The Grace Vieira. Attorney at Law.
GRACE (laughing):
Yep. A whole fleet of them.
Grace folds her napkin into tiny squares.
GRACE:
You know. I really am serious about law school …
(laughing)
Just gonna need one HECK of a bake sale to pay for it.
A
LEX MCPHEARSON (charmed by her):
Your parents must be really proud of you.
Grace folds and refolds the napkin even smaller.
GRACE:
My mom is.
(shredding the napkin into pieces)
My dad. He… He died.
(a beat)
I was just a baby.
Alex reaches over for Grace’s hand.
An animated Senhora Medeiros points over to Grace and Alex. Joey stomps over to their table. Alex removes his hand from Grace’s.
JOEY (Looking at Alex, but addressing Grace):
Why didn’t you wait for me?
GRACE (pissed):
And, why did you just take off on me? Where’d you go in such a rush, Joey?
Joey shoves his hands into his pants pockets - stuffing in a wad of lottery tickets.
JOEY:
SCREW you, Grace. You’re not my mother.
Joey stomps out.
ALEX MCPHEARSON:
What was that all about?
Grace looks out the window as Joey passes by - pulling out a Lottery Scratch Ticket from his pocket.
135 INT. BELLA’S SEWING ROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT
A small overhead lamp shines down on Grace lying down on the daybed reading the book from her assignment: “The Hidden Injuries of Class and Religion.”
CLOSE ON: Napoleon Bonaparte quote:
“Religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich.”
Phone RINGS.
BELLA:
Grace, is Joey.
GRACE:
I don’t want to talk to him.
Bella enters the doorway of the sewing room.
BELLA:
Why? What he do?
Grace stares down at her book.
Bella sits on the edge of the day bed, raises Grace’s chin up, examining her face.
BELLA (tenderly):
Tell me querida. Did he hit you?
Grace nods, No.
BELLA:
He find a new girl?
GRACE:
No.
BELLA:
Then what? What can be so bad?
GRACE (blurts out):
I don’t want to be with Joey anymore, Ma.
BELLA:
But why? Joey’s like family.
GRACE:
He’s gambling. Just throwing his money away.
BELLA:
Oh... that’s nothing. I talk with his Mama. We make him stop.
GRACE:
It’s not just that ...
BELLA:
Is gonna be okay. I go get you some nice soup, it make you feel better.
Slamming her book shut.
GRACE:
I don’t want any stupid soup, Ma. I don’t want Joey. And I don’t want to get married. I want my own life.
What Geese Can't Fly Page 8
