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<< back to INT. RUDY'S APARTMENT | from LAST STOP, BARSTOW, first draft, pages 22-25 
INT. TRUCK STOP DINER - BARSTOW - NIGHT 2:10 A.M. Orange booths patched with tape. A pie case with one slice of lemon meringue that has been there since at least the Bicentennial. Out the window, the dead bus sits under the lights with its hood up, like it's being examined. JUNE (17, a backpack she won't take off, a sweatshirt with the sleeves pulled over her hands) sits alone in a booth with a glass of water. She hasn't ordered anything. She's counting coins under the table. NORMA (60s, the waitress, and the only thing awake in Barstow) refills her water without being asked. Across the aisle, LEONARD FISK (76, bow tie, a jacket too warm for the desert, hands like a pianist's) has been watching June for a while. He gets up, brings his coffee, and stands at the end of her booth. May I? No. He sits down in the booth across the aisle instead, facing her. Takes a quarter out of his pocket. Holds it up so it catches the light.Perfectly reasonable. He passes the coin from his right hand to his left. Closes the left. Opens it. Empty.Then I'll just practice over here. Don't mind me. Old habit. June doesn't want to be interested. She is. He opens the right hand. Empty too. He reaches over, not close, and plucks the quarter from the air a foot above her water glass. Sets it on her table.It's in your other hand. For the jukebox. It only plays Patsy Cline, but it's better than the bus. He does. Slower. This time she watches his other hand, the one that isn't doing anything.(despite herself) Leonard sits back. Delighted. Genuinely.You never put it in the left hand. You just made it look like you did. You kept it in the right the whole time. Norma! She got it. (from the counter) It's the oldest trick there is. Everybody watches the hand that moves. Nobody watches the hand that stays still. Forty years I did that in theaters all over this country, and you got it in two tries at two in the morning. So it's just lying. He finishes his coffee.No. Lying is telling you where to look. Magic is letting you choose where to look, and knowing which way you'll choose. He stands, puts on his hat, nods to her, and goes back to his own booth. Opens a paperback. Doesn't look at her again.Here's the only real trick I know, and it isn't a trick. At any moment, you get to decide which hand you're watching. June sits with that. She looks at the quarter on the table. Norma comes by with the coffeepot. Sets down a slip of paper next to the quarter, face down. Bus to Riverside leaves at six-fifteen. That's paid for. You don't have to use it. How did you know I'm from Riverside? June looks down. It is. She pulls the sleeves over her hands again, then, slowly, lets them go.Honey, it's on your sweatshirt. She turns over the paper. A ticket. She looks across the aisle. Leonard turns a page. Which hand was it in? June gets up, crosses to the jukebox, and puts in the quarter.(not looking up) Rudy's note: First draft, so be gentle, or don't, I've got thick skin. I know the ticket is a little neat. I'm trying to decide if June uses it or gets back on the Vegas bus, and I've written it both ways, and I cried at both, which means nothing, because I also cry at phone commercials. Vote by e-mail: [email protected] © 1999 Rudy Kasparian · Last updated September 24, 1999 · THE CLEAN-OUT · front page |