"PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES" (1987)

PLANES, TRAINS AND AUTOMOBILES

BY

JOHN HUGHES

5/22/86 REVISIONS

•

TRAINS, PLANES AND AUTOMOBILES

By

John Hughes

The city is on the edge of winter. Late November. Thanksgiving week. Tuesday. The sky is low and dark. The sidewalks are clogged with pedestrians bundled against the chill wind blowing down the avenue. Shoulder-to-shoulder stampede of independent, socially incompatible human units returning to their domiciles after a day's work. Traffic is as traffic will be. Slow and tangled. Within the protective confines of their rolling pieces of territory, the drivers are more expressive and bold than the foot soldiers on the sidewalks ..

A young MAN of unspecified origin isbustling, stocking caps on a corner.

A cop is frisking a young BOY against a store, barely noticed by the current of passersby.

A SALVATION ARMY TRIO is singing. Their voices are barely perceptible against the drone of the traffic.

The white marble tower dwarfing the thousands crossing its plaza.

C.U. ROLEX WATCH

On a man's wrist. It reads 5:56. A shirt and jacket cuff slowly slide down over thewatch.

C.U. SHEET OF PAPER

Folded in thirds. A man's hand discreetly opens the top fold to reveal a travel itinerary. His index finger scans a line stopping on ...DEPART NEW YORK 6:00 PM UNITED 105.

C.U. NEAL PAGE

A handsome young man. Early thirties. Impeccably dressed, perfectly coif~d, elegantly dressed. A successful man deeply in control of his life. His eyes shift from down to up.

A cold, stark conference room. Marble table, harsh cove lighting, black leather, high-back chairs. Neal and an older MAN, JOHN DOLE are on one side of the table. Across from him are three nearly identical middle-aged MEN. Dark suits, white shirts, dark ties, dark hair combed straight back. They're studying a series of ad layouts. The man in the middle is holding one of the ads.

C.U. AD

It's for lipstick.

C.U. NEAL

He looks at his watch again. He's nervous about the time.

C.U. MAN

he's staring at the ad, considering it. Can't make up his mind.

C.U. JOHN

He looks at Neal.

C.U. NEAL

He looks at John. Shakes his head in disgust. He taps his watch and mouths, "i GOTTA GO!"

C.U. JOHN

He nods. He understands. He shrugs.

TRIO

Still staring at the ad. No expression, blank faces.

Neal looks at his watch again. He leans back in his chair. He's annoyed. The man sets the ad down. He looks across the table, opens his mouth to speak. John and Neal lean forward to receive his words. He shuts his mouth and picks up the ad again.

Luxury and style. Leather and stone. Neal bursts out of the offices and crosses the reception area. He's carrying a briefcase and a two suiter. John is right on his heels.

He hurries out double glass doors into the hallway. He sets down his briefcase and presses the DOWNbutton on the elevator bank.

Neal presses his finger into the heat-sensitive button again.

The elevator BELL SOUNDS. He picks up his briefcase.

The elevator doors open and Neal turns to face a capacity crowd in the elevator.

The elevators disgorge their passengers, Neal among them. He's very anxious and annoyed by the slow moving crowd.

There's a large crowd at the doors. Neal cranes his neck to see what the delay is.

An elderly woman is moving through the doors at a snail's pace. She stops, takes a breather, moves another half a foot, stops...

Neal squeezes out of the building and hurries across the plaza.

A crowd of people waiting for buses and taxis line the curb. Neal slips through to the curb and takes a frantic look up and down the avenue.

Neal hurries down the street, weaving through pedestrians, throwing an arm up and letting out a sharp whistle every time he spots a cab.

A tangle of traffic. People hailing cabs. Arms waving.

C.U. CAB LIGHT

It goes on.

C.U. MAN ON THE STREET

A middle-mana<Ji!rsort. He sees the light on the cab, puts his fingers to his lips and lets out with a piercing whistle.

HIS POV

The cab he's hailing starts a move to the curb.

Neal spots a cab, cuts between parked cars into the street. He opens the back door and starts in.

He turns in his seat. Gruff Russian immigrant. No bullshit taken.

NEAL

He's not going to take no foran answer.

DRIVER

He's OFF-DUTY!

NEAL

He can't believe the guy won't take his offer. He increases it.

DRIVER

He's pissed.

He turns in the seat and hits the gas.

The cab lurches forward, Neal jumps back, his briefc~se goes flying.

C.U. BRIEFCASE

The aluminum Haliburton case hits pavement and slides under a parked car. The car pulls out, rolling over the briefcase, flattening the center.

The cab we saw before edges toward the curb. It's one lane of traffic away.

Neal hurries along with his bent briefcase and smoldering temper. He glances at his watch.

C.U. WATCH

It reads 5:11.

C.U. NEAL

He's furious and panicked at the same time. He scans the street.

B.

HIS POV

The cab pulls up to the curb.

C.U. NEAL

He sees the cab light.

C.U. LIGHT

Glowing white and free.

The man who hailed the cab steps into the street and grabs the handle to enter the cab. Neal rushes up.

The man opens the cab door.

The man hesitates. The CABBIE blows his horn.

Behind Neal's back, a portly man in a navy blue, polyester overcoat drags a streamer trunk, a sample case and suitcase to the cab.

Neal reaches for his wallet. The Cabbie gets out of the cab and pops the trunk. He helps the portly man hoist the trunk into the cab. They throw the suitcases in and slam the trunk shut.

Neal counts out a hundred dollars in twenties. The portly man gets in the cab and it pulls out. Neal hands over the money.

Neal turns to find the cab gone. He snaps his head down the street.

HIS POV

The cab has pulled away and is working back into the traffic flow.

He's furious.

He pockets the cash and steps back up on the curb. Neal takes off after the cab:

It's stopped at a light, turning left. Neal runs between the waiting cars to the cab. He whips the door open and looks inside.

HIS POV

A portly man in his late thirties, DEL GRIFFITH, looks up at him with alarm. He's wearing the navy overcoat, a cheap blue plaid suit, blue, polyester dress shirt and navy polyester tie with a tie bar.

C.U. NEAL

He's livid.

C.U. DEL

He's surprised. He thought it was his cab.

C.U. TRAFFIC LIGHT

From red to green.

The cab lurches ahead. Neal jumps back, the briefcase goes flying again.

C.U. PAVEMENT

The case hits the deck and is nailed by a bus tire.

He's standing in the middle of the moving traffic. Defeat.

A horrible jam of cars and buses.

A double decker airport bus is emptying of cut-rate travelers. Loaded tourists, haggard bottom-end business types and Neal. He's carrying his flattened briefcase, the FAO Schwartz bag and his two-suiter. He urges the people along.

Neal races across the crowded lobby to the ticket counter. A long line. He sets down his stuff and takes his ticket out of breast ~ocket. He looks at it and then •t the line. He looks at his watch.

C.U. WATCH

It's 5:49.

C.U. NEAL

He's in a panic.

The woman in front of him turns around, glad to share her anger.

A harried FEMALETICKET AGENT is tapping on her computer keys.

C.U. DEL GRIFFITH

The guy who took Neal's cab is the jerk that's been taking ten minutes.

AGENT

He sighs.

DEL

He thinks, clicks his tongue.

He smiles warmly.

Neal's running full-out down the corridor. He rounds a corner and comes to a stop.

There's a huge crowd, long line.

He can't win. He joins the line. Looks at his watch.

Del Griffith is, again, the cause of the delay. He's emptying his pockets of anything metal. A SECURITY GUARDis scanning with a hand-held detector.

The guard isn't interested in conversation.

The guard gets a loud reading at Del's feet.

C.U. DEL'S FOOT

The guard lifts his pant leg to reveal, stuck in the back of his cushion sole loafer, a shoe horn. He pulls it out.

GUARDAND DEL

He shows Del the shoe horn.

The guard dismisses him. Del takes his sample case and his briefcase and waddles off down the corridor.

A harried MALE TICKET AGENT is besieged by angry flyers. He says nothing. Ignores the fray. Goes about his tasks.

Neal is in the midst of the angry flyers. He has his smashed briefcase clenched under his arm, his two-suiter over his arm, tie loosened, ticket in hand.

C.U. DEL

He's holding everything up at the counter.

AGENT

He stares at Del.

He hands Del his ticket.

C.U. DEL

He smiles.

He gives the guy a wink and turns to face Neal.

C.U. NEAL

he recognizes Del as the person who jumped his cab.

NEAL AND DEL

Del recognizes Neal.

He pushes around Del to the counter. Del feels badly that Neal may be upset with him.

Neal ignores Del and hands his ticket to the agent.

Neal looks at him. Says nothing.

A SUPERVISOR steps behind the counter and speaks quietly to the agent. The agent hands Neal his ticket and boarding pass.

He turns to the flight board, removes the departure time and replaces it with one that reads, DELAYED.

C.U. NEAL

He stares at the sign. The rushwas for nothing.

Neal's sitting in one of the row seats reading a newspaper. As he turns a page, something catches his eye.

HIS POV

Del's directly across from him in the facing seats. He has a cigarette in his mouth, a cardboard food box with a pair of jumbo hot dogs in it. He's applying mustard from individual packets. He takes a final drag on the smoke, ~nuffs it out in the smoker, takes a huge bite of the hot dog and lets the cigarette smoke trail out his nose.

NEAL

He's revolted. He lifts his paper to shield him from the sight.

C.U. WALL CLOCK

It reads seven o'clock.

Neal's reading a magazine. He's in shirtsleeves. He lowers the magazine and sniffs. Some horrible odor's disturbing his reading. He looks down. ·

HIS POV

Stocking feet. One foot scratches the other. WE MOVE UP FROM THE FEET TO DEL, He's chomping on a toothpick, reading a pornographic novel.

NEAL

He goes back to his magazine.

Neal walks in. We HEAR LOUDWHISTLING. Neal stops and looks.

HIS POV

Del's in his undershirt, face lathered, razor in hand. He looks across at Neal.

NEAL

He sighs and crosses to the urinal.

DEL

He continues shaving.

He turns.

HIS POV

Neal's gone.

DEL

He's surprised thatNeal's left. A little disappointed. He's obviously a man who likes conversation. With anyone. He shrugs, turns back to his shaving. He finishes his conversation.

Neal's at the door of the plane arguing with a STEWARDESS.

Neal's in the middle.seat. ·on one side of him is a WOMAN with a BABY. On the other side is Del Griffith. Neal's burned, fried, defeated, blown-out and comatose.

Neal doesn't say a word. Del offers his hand.

Neal looks at Del's outstretched hand. He sighs. It's going to be a terrible flight. As much as he'd·like to tell Del to take a flyer, he can't. He's not that kind of man. He clasps Del's big, friendly paw.

Del pumps his hand.

Neal nods yes.

Neal stares at him.

Neal smiles and nods politely.

Del reaches into the seat pocket in front of him and removes the airline magazine. Neal bends over and opens his crushed briefcase. He takes out a bound report. Del glances down at the briefcase.

Neal smiles and opens his report.

Del stares at him. Hurt.

Neal sighs. Del's driving him mad.

Del holds up his hand, cutting Neal off. He leans back in his seat and opens the magazine. Neal waits a beat and opens his report. They both read for a few moments. Del lowers his magazine.

The airport is nearly lost to a blizzard. All modes of transportation are dead.

Del's sound asleep, mouth open, snoring. Neal's sipping coffee, going over papers. He sets down the report and looks at his watch. He looks at Del.

HIS POV

Del's facing him, eyes closed, mouth open.

C.U. NEAL

Staring at Del.

HIS POV

Del opens his eyes.

Neal's on a pay phone.

He's in a flight lounge, sitting, smoking, watching Neal.

HIS POV

Neal's across the corridor, talking on the phone.

C.U. DEL

He yawns.

NEAL

He looks at his watch and wraps up the conversation.

He hangs up the phone. He curses under his breath and starts back down the corridor. Del calls to him.

Neal stops and turns. Del gets up from his seat and shuffles into the corridor.

Neal's a little worried that Del may be right. But he's not prepared to take any advice.

C.U. NEAL

A look of alarm.

Neal's standing at the window, looking out on the field. There's a weary crowd milling about, waiting for news.

An airline REPRESENTATIVEaddresses the crowd over the PA.

he clicks off and prepares for theonslaught.

C.U. NEAL

He rests his head against the cold glass.

Del's dragging his trunk across the floor to the doors. He has his sample case, suitcase and briefcase resting on it. Neal's at the door with his two suiter over his arm, his crushed briefcase under his other arm. Del stops, straightens up and addresses him.

Neal shakes his head, no.

He drags the case the rest of the way to the doors.

NEJ>,L Elev.en?

For the first time in hours, Neal brightens.

Neal sets his briefcase on top of the trunk and lifts his end.

They lumber the trunk out the doors to the cab stand.

C.U. TAXI METER

It reads $124.50.

Del and Neal are in the back of the old Checker.

Del leans forward and talks to the driver.

Del leans back in the seat.

Just off the highway. An anonymous cinderblock rectangle. The kind of place you stay in once. Emergency shelter. Trucks parked everywhere. The taxi pulls in.

Fake wood and naugahyde. A tiny front desk, two sofas, a rack of tourist info, a pay phone, a newspaper box and an easel with a cardboard sign with words in glitter -- DON PELTRAM'S ACCORDION HIJINX. Del and Neal lug the truck into the lobby and set it down. The DESK CLERK stands up from his chair where he's sitting watching TV.

Gus reaches his hand across the desk. Neal shakes it.

Gus clucks his tongue.

Neal looks at Del with a sigh.

Neal chuckles.

It's dark, the door opens and Del walks in. He turns on the light. Neal looks in. His face drops.

HIS POV

A tiny room with a double bed.

NEAL AND DEL

NEAL IS HORRIFIED. DEL'S EXCITED.

Neal's standing in the shower with his face to the spray. He enjoys the relaxing heat and clean. Something occurs to him. He moves his head out of the spray and looks up.

HIS POV

The shower curtain rings.

Del's in his pajamas. He takes a pillow from out of his trunk and a photograph. He looks at it fondly.

C.U. PHOTO

It's of a young woman. Friendly and comfy, not very pretty but full of life and smiling like a Crest ad. The photo's probably fifteen years old.

Del kisses the picture and sets iton the nightstand next to the bed. He closes the trunk and slides it against the wall. He takes his dopp kit out of the suitcase, closes it, sets it on top of the trunk and turns on the TV. He dials in a religious program. He slips a quarter into the bed vibrator and lays down.

Neal reaches for the soap. Stops short.

HIS POV

The soap dish. a tiny bar of soap covered with hair.

C.U. NEAL

He carefully holds the disgusting bar of soap to the spray to wash the hair away.

Del's enjoying a good vibration. A beat and there's a knock on the door. Del crosses to the door and opens it. It's a pimply pizza delivery BOY. He has a large pizza and six-pack of beer.

Del takes the pizza and the beer. He sets the pizza on top of his suitcase and the six-pack on the vibrating bed. He looks around for his wallet. He sees Neal's pants hanging over the chair. He hesitates for a moment, throws a look to the bathroom, fishes out the wall~t, extracts a ten and gives it to the boy.

Del closes the door. He crosses to the pizza and opens the box.

C.U. PIZZA

The ugliest pizza ever made. Cheese, sausage, olives, green peppers, japalenos, kraut, bacon, beans, corn, anchovies.

Del scoops a piece of the abomination out of the box.

Neal pulls open the curtain to reveal a completely sacked bathroom. Towels on the floor, sink half-filled with soapy water, toothpaste on the counter top, flecks in the mirror, toilet paper unraveled, Del's bathrobe on the back of the door.

C.U. NEAL

He's revolted, looks for a towel.

HIS POV

From awad of used towels in a puddle on the floor to a towel rack with two washcloths. A hand reaches for them.

C.U. NEAL

He tries his hair with washcloths.

Del's in the vibrating bed, eating pizza, watching TV. A few beats and the bed stops vibrating. Neal comes out of th• bathroom in his boxer shorts.

Neal sniffs. Makes a horrible face.

He crosses to the box and looks into it. He makes. another face and takes the box around to the front of the bed and sits down. He scoops out the last slice. He takes a bite.

Neal sets the pizza down and pulls a beer off the six-pack.

Neal tosses Del the beer. He takes another. He and Del open simultaneously. The vibrating bed has sufficiently shaken the beer to provide a double beer explosion.

The lights are out. Del and Neal are in bed. It's quiet.

There's a long pause. Del strikes a match and lights a cigarette.

Neal switches on the light.

Del jumps on the defensive.

Neal's embarrassed.

Del takes one last puff. He drops it in a beer can and swishes it out.

Neal turns off the light. He settles back into the bed. There's another long pause.

Neal turns on the light. He's furious. He grabs his pants and slips them on.

Neal grabs his shirt.

He pulls back the covers and slides his legs over the side of the bed.

Neal stops at the door. He throws a look at Del.

Neal hesitates at the door.

Del glares at Neal.

C.U. NEAL

He feels like the last slice of a loaf of bread.

C.U. DEL

He's serious and genuine.

Neal closes the door and walks back to the bed. He steps out of his pants and gets in bed. He turns out the light. Del slips back into bed. They both settle in.

The pizza boy's still hanging around. He puts his ear to the door and listens. He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws a room key.

it's even uglier in the daylight. In the middle of nothing.

• Sleeping. Tight ·asspoons. Del has his arm around Neal's chest. Neal's holding Del's hand. Del's face is in the crook of Neal's neck. Nestled tight and warm. They're both sleeping sweet and satisfied. Del snuggles and nibbles Neal's earlobe with his dry lips. Neal smiles in his sleep. A beat and the smile relaxes. Somewhere in his unconscious mind, he senses something's not right. Another beat and Neal opens his eyes. He thinks for a moment. He slowly brings Del's hand up to his face and looks at it. Del's eyes open. He looks around, orients himself. He knows something's terribly wrong.

Del thinks another beat. His hand emerges from under Neal's pillow.

Del and Neal burst out of the bed, screaming and shivering with revulsion.

Del and Neal are eating breakfast.

An anorexic WAITRESS cruises by, refills their coffee cups and drops off the check.

Neal shrugs. He smiles.

Del grabs the check. Neal snat~hes it away from him.

Neal laughs. He reaches for his wallet and opens it. It's empty. His laughter ends abruptly. He looks angrily at Del.

Neal shows him his empty wallet.

Del digs his hand into his back pocket and whips out his fat, worn, brown leather wallet. He slaps it on the table.

Neal picks up the wallet and opens it. He looks in the money section.

Del grabs the wallet from him. He looks in it. He glares at Neal.

They look at each other for a long beat.

Neal thinks. He shakes his head.

Neal reaches inhis pocket. He takes out a few crumpled bills and some change. Del reaches in his pocket. He comes up with a dollar. Neal looks at the check.

Del counts out themoney. He calls the waitress over.

She looks at the check.

The waitress rears back.

Neal looks at him curiously. Del opens his mouth. Neal follows suit. The waitress clucks her tongue and yanks the check off the table.

She quickly scratches off the bacon and retotals.

The waitress puts the check down on the table.

She picks up the check and tears it in two.

Del and Neal are sitting on Del's trunk in front of the motel.

They're chatting, waiting.

so.

Del looks at his watch.

EXT, _MOTEL

An old pick-up truck pulls up in front of the motel and blows its-horn.

NEAL AND DEL

They look at the truck, then at each other.

Del calls to the driver.

HIS POV

A strange, gangly young man, OWEN, looks out the truck at him. Beside him is a TWO-YEAR-OLDstanding on the seat and his WIFE with a BABY in her arms.

Del and Neal get up from the trunk.

Neal and Del nod to the wife.

He and Neal stoop to lift the trunk.

He turns and barks at the wife.

Neal and Del quickly intercede.

They lift the trunk and hoist it into the trunk. Barely. They quickly load the other things.

The wife opens the door to get out. Del and Neal jump into the truck.

Owen throws the truck in gear and it lurches forward.

The truck pulls up at the depot. Del and Neal are frozen. Their hair is standing on end. They slowly riseand step down from the truck. Owen and his wife get out of the truck and walk around to the back. Owen opens the gate. His teensy wife picks up the trunk and carries it into the depot. Del and Neal grab the other bags with frozen fingers.

Neal gives Del his ticket.

Neal offers his hand. Del takes it.

Neal pats Del on the back and boards the train. Del watcpes him board. There's a little sadness. He misses Neal already. He looks at his ticket and waddles down the siding. He boards another car.

Neal places his briefcase in the overhead baggage compartment and sits down in the window seat. He settles into the seat. He ~ighs with relief. Glad to be seated, glad to be headed home. Glad to be rid of Del. Not in a mean way. Just glad to be on his own, going back to his own life. He closes his eyes.

The Amtrak train flies down the tracks across the frosty plains.

Neal's sleeping. His face is turned to the window. He stirs and rolls his head to the other side. Right into the snoring mug of Del Griffith. He opens his eyes and rearsback. He recovers from the iurprise and slumps in defeat. He shakes his head and sighs. He can't shake the big dude. He leans his head back and closes his eyes. There's a jolt. He opens his eyes and looks out the window.

HIS POV

The countryside isn't flashing by the window as quickly as it was before.

C.U. NEAL

Disappointment washes down all over his face.

HIS POV

The countryside isn't flashing past at all. The train's dead on the tracks.

Smoke's billowing out of the engine. A perplexed crew is watching the fire.

The Missouri capital.

The Greyhound main terminal.

Del and Neal are sitting on benches in the seedy terminal.

DEL AND NEAL

Del looks at Neal. Neal's bubbling with anger. He looks at his watch. Del looks at him.

Neal looks at him. He's not so sure.

Neal shakes his head, no.

Jammed with cut-rate passengers. Screaming BABIES, luggage everywhere, food wrappers, a dozen SERVICEMENwith their Walkman's leaking twelve different songs. CHILDREN cruising the aisles. The engine is ROARING. Someone has a window open. It's hell on wheels.

DEL AND NEAL

They're toward the back. Neal has a seat in his lap. The person in front of him has the seat all theway back and is sleeping. Del's eating popcorn. Neal's staring out the filthy window. Del pokes Neal. Neal looks at him. Del jerks his head toward the seats opposite them. Neal looks.

HIS POV

A sleazy, young couple are furiously necking in the seats. His hands are all over her. Inside her clothes, outside her clothes, squeezing, rubbing, stroking.

DEL AND NEAL

They're both watching.

Neal stares at him.

A child's hand squeezes between Del and Neal's seats and fishes around.

Neal leans back to avoid the child's dirty, probing fingers.

Neal's jaw drops.

C.U. PHOTOGRAPH

A picture of a turkey dinner. We MOVE OFF the photo and up to Neal. He's on the phone.

Neal turns into the terminal.

HIS POV

Del's talking with a group of kids.

NEAL

He turns back to the booth.

He's talking with the kids.

NEAL

He wraps up his conversation.

He's still hawking the kids.

Del and Neal are eating lunch.

Neal smiles.

Neal lays the news on Del.

Del's face drops. He's hurt. He's enjoying the adventure.

Del looks down at his plate.

There's a long pause.

He looks up at Neal.

Del drops his napkin on his plate. He looks at the check, lays down the appropriate sum plus tip. He counts out half the remaining money and puts it in his pocket. He gets up and stuffs the other half inNeal's suitcoat pocket. He pats him on the shoulder.

He shuffles out of the restaurant. Neal watches him go. A sad smile.

Jammed with activity.

It's jammed with people. Huge lines. Deafening din. Neal's at the counter filling out the forms.

Neal's at the curb with a group of people waiting for the courtesy bus. For the first time since the GM building,

he's smiling. He's so light in spirit, he strikes up a conversation with a frail, young man next to him.

Neal is shocked.

One of those vans with the sofas and lamps. It's packed with weary travelers. Neal included. He's squeezed in between two nuns. The van jerks to a stop. A BURLYBLACK DRIVER calls out Neal's name.

Neal gets up and squishes his way up to the front. The driver hands Neal his rental agreement envelope and a set of keys.

He sits down and opens the door. Neal steps down off the van.

The van pulls away. Neal looks at the envelope. He turns and scans the lot.

HIS POV

No Red Mustang in sight.

NEAL

He looks at the keys. Looks up. Looks at the pavement.

HIS POV

In big, white letters, D-67.

NEAL

He walks down the row of cars, looking at the space numbers.

C.U. PAVEMENT

It's E-67. No Red Mustang. No nothing.

Neal stands in the empty space looking at the keys and the rental agreement.

He looks down the long parking lot aisle.

HIS POV

The van disappears down the lane. Stops. Discharges passengers. Turns and heads down another aisle.

NEAL

He takes off down the aisle.

The last passenger gets off. The doors close and the van pulls out. As it pulls out, we see Neal, breathless and exhausted make a last futile attempt to catch the van. He stops.

The van turns onto the highway leading back to the airport.

EXT, PARKING LOT

Neal drops his two-suiter.

The doors open and Neal shuffles in. He's frozen. His pant legs are soaked with road spray. His coat's splattered with

mud. He's blue in the face. He's dragging the two-suiter. His shoes are saturated and covered with salt stains. He has his necktie wrapped around his head to keep his earswarm.

Neal trudges up to the counter. A perky young AGENT finishes her last task and looks up at Neal with a big, friendly, TV ad smile. The smile dissolves as she studies him.

C.U. NEAL

He looks crazed, frozen, wild and mad as hell.

C.U. AGENT

She manages a fresh smile. Less enthusiastic.

C.U. NEAL

He leans forward. Talks very softly.

C.U. AGENT

She leans forward to hear better.

NEAL AND THE AGENT

He leans a little closer.

The Agent freezes.

Neal trudges out of the airport. His eyes are glazed, he's beyond anger. He walks zombie-like to a cab stand. A burly dispatcher addresses him.

68,

The dispatcher pauses.

The dispatcher glares at Neal.

C.U. DISPATCHER

He doesn't much care for Neal's attitude.

C.U. NEAL

Doesn't understand.

C.U. DISPATCHER

He draws his fist back.

He throws a fist enclosed in leather directly into CAMERA.

C.U. NEAL

he drops backwards OUT OF FRAME.

Neal falls into the street. Lands on his ass in front of a car. The contents of his briefcase go flying. He screams and covers his head. The car skids to a stop, inches from Neal's body. Horns blow, tires screech.

C.U. NEAL

Hands over his face. He slowly removes them.

HIS POV

Del Griffith is over him, looking down. He's startled.

c.u. NEAL

He's equally startled.

C.U. DEL

He's relieved to find Neal's alright.

Del's driving. Neal's next to him. He's cleaning off his face with a handkerchief.

He puts his arm up on the seat and puts the hammer down.

A massive green Lincoln speeds past. Del's steamer trunk is hanging out the back of the car trunk which is secured with a length of twine.

The Lincoln's at the pump. Del and Neal are out of the car. Del's stretching.

The attendant returns the hose and caps the tank.

Del looks at Neal to say he doesn't have the funds.

Neal shakes his head, fishes out his wallet and gives the attendant his credit card. He shuffles into the station.

The attendant returns with the credit card and slip. Neal takes the greasy pen and signs his name.

Neal takes his card and walks around to the driver's side. Del's staring at him.

Neal gives him a look and gets in the car. Del opens the door.

He gets in and closes the door. Neal starts the car and pulls out.

Neal's driving. Del's trying to get comfortable. He's running through the electric seat positions. It's annoying the hell out of Nea·1.

NEAL· Could you please not do that with the seat? It's bugging me.

Neal doesn't answer.

He raises the seat bottom and lowers the seat back. The motors grind and squeal.

A couple more tries and~e gets the seat the way he wants it.

·Nealsighs.

Del pushes the chair button. The motor grinds as he rises forward. He loosens his shoes. He pushes the button again and returns to his position. A fewmore squirts and he's got it just right.

Neal looks at him. A long stare. Back to the road, back to Del.

He closes his eyes.

Neal doesn't look at Del. He puts his foot down. The car thunders ahead.

The car powers past.

Neal's driving. Del's sound asleep. Snoring. Neal turns up the music to mask the snoring. The snoring gets louder. Neal turns the music up louder. The snoring goes louder. Neal turns the music full blast. He looks at Del. Sleeping like a baby.

No response. He reaches for the electric window buttons. He opens Del's window. Wind whips in. Del doesn't stir. Neal puts down the other windows. No response from Del.

He reaches over and pokes him. He stirs, turns away and closes his mouth. He stops snoring. Neal puts the windows back up. He turns off the radio. Nothing out of Del. He reaches into his lap and adjusts his crotch.

Neal freezes.

A greasy, little dump dwarfed by the giant rigs and the Lincoln.

Del and Neal are finishing their.coffee.

Neal grows weary of the bickering. He changes the subject. To what's really bothering him.

It'shard being away, isn't it?

They get up from the table and cross to the cash register. The door opens and a TRUCKERwalks in.

He crosses to the counter. Del looks at Neal. Then at the CASHIER.

Del pats Neal on the back. I'll be out front.

Del's in the car. The motor's running. Neal comes out and gets in the car. Del guns the engine and whips the Lincoln out of the parking space. Grinds to a stop, throws it in forward and squeals out.

Del's barreling down the road. Neal's laying down, trying to get the seat up.

The motor whinnies as Neal holds his finger on the button.

BO.

Neal crosses his arms on his chest as he lays practically falls on his back in the broken seat.

Del flips on the radio and starts scanning the dial. Two second bursts of music and talk. Up and down the FM band. He hits the_AM band and travels it up and down.

He flips back to FM.

Del turns off the radio.

Del doesn't react. Neal leans forward, does a sit up and flips on the radio. He scans down the dial until he hears the· plaintive howl of a steel guitar. He leans back.

He settles into the seat and closes his eyes. Del pushes the cigarette lighter in. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette. The lighter pops and lights the smoke.

Del presses thewindow button. He opens the window a crack.

He opens the window further. Cold wind rushes in.

Del blasts the heater fan. Double the noise. He turns up the music above the rush of wind and roar of the fan~

Del shifts in his se·at,puffs his cigarette.

the Lincoln hurtles down the lonely interstate into the dark of the approaching storm.

Neal's fallen asleep. Del takes a last puff on the cigarette and carefully slips it out the window. He flicks it away.

The butt is sucked back in the window and lands on Neal's two-suiter in the backseat. The window snaps shut.

Del bobs his head to the music. He's getting heavily bored. He taps the steering wheel to the beat. Flicks his brights on and off to the beat. It's getting a little warm in the car. He turns off the fan. Drives a bit further. Still too warm. He looks at Neal. He's asleep. He doesn't want to open the window for fear of waking him with the noise. He raises his knees to the steering wheel and attempts to remove his coat.

The Lincoln from the front. It swerves a little to the left, then back to the -right.

Del has his arms around behind his back trying to get his arms out of the sleeves. As he presses back in the seat, his foot buries the accelerator.

C.U. PEDALS

The accelerator is on the floor.

The Lincoln screams past.

, INT.CAR

Del's steering with his knees, streaking down the highway. He's struggling with his arms. He suddenly realizes that he has a huge problem. He twists to the side.

C.U. DEL'S HANDS

In trying to take off his coat, he's managed to slip his hands into the epaulets on the cuffs of his overcoat and has effectively handcuffed himself.

Del struggles to free his hands, driving with his knees. Neal's asleep, oblivious to everything.

The Lincoln's roaring along. It glides across two lanes and shoots up an exit ramp.

Del rips his hands free, grabs the wheel and hits the brakes. He slams his eyes shut and SCREAMS. The braking force throws Neal and the seat back forward. The seat locks.

The Lincoln does a 180 and grinds to a halt in a cloud of tire smoke. It comes to rest across the overpass road, pointing toward the ramp it just came up. The engine shudders and dies.

Neal bends over with the locked seat back holding him doubled over. Del is white as bone china. Speechless, pumped full of adrenalin. Neal looks at him.

Del looks at him. Executes a quick recovery.

Neal stares at him.

Neal tries it. It just whines.

Themotor continues to whine. Something catches. The back moves to a normal position but the seat moves forward. Almost to the dash. It stops.

Neal does nothing.

He starts the engine. Guns it. Huge backfire.

He drops it in gear.

The Lincoln lurches ahead and heads down the ramp it came up, heading back onto the highway in the wrong direction.

Neal slumps down in the seat. Del's wide awake. Alert as a bunny. Neal closes his eyes.

C.U. BACKSEAT

The two-suiter's smoldering. The cigarette's burned a hole in the bag and fallen into the clothes.

C.U. NEAL

He sniffs. Opens his eyes. Looks at Del.

C.U. DEL

He looks at Neal.

Neal sits up.

He settles back in. Del puts his arm up on the window and starts to whistle.

Across Del to Neal and out the passenger window. We see a car riding alongside the Lincoln. It's across the median strip. It's going the right direction. Del glances across. Sees the car. Smiles. Puts a little more juice into it. The car running_alongside him blows its horn. Del chuckles. He blows his horn and puts the hammer down a little more. Neal sits up and looks at Del.

He motions his head to the other car. It's horn is blaring. Del lays on his horn and slams the accelerator to the floor. Neal looks out the window.

HIS POV

A sedan is keeping pace across the grass strip dividing the highway. The driver has his window down and is waving his arm furiously.

He's looking out the passenger window.

C.U. NEAL

He's watching the car.

HIS POV

The car running alongside. The driver's screaming.

C.U. NEAL

He cups his hand to his ear.

C. U.DEL

He shoots looks out the window.

C.U. NEAL

He puts his window down.

L

HIS POV

The driver's screaming.

C.U. NEAL

He screams back.

HIS POV

The driver keeps screaming.

C.U. NEAL

He can't quite make out what the guy's screaming.

HIS POV

The driver continues hollering.

C.U. NEAL

He sticks his head ~ut the window.

HIS POV

The driver shrieks.

Neal pulls his head back in the window. He looks at Del.

Neal snaps his head around. Looks out the window.

C.U. NEAL

It hits him. His eyes bug-out. He snaps his head forward.

A pair of ten-wheelers racing up a hill.

Neal screams. Del looks at him. Snaps his head around to the · front.

THEIR POV

Four huge, bright sets of headlights breaking the crest of the hill.

C.U. DEL

Slams his eyes shut.

C.U. NEAL

Eyes frozen open their widest.

C.U. DEL'S FOOT

On the brake pedal. To the floor.

The trucks swerve apart to avoid the Lincoln. They're gone in a flash. The force of the sudden stop sends the steamer trunk hurtling forward. It rips the trunk lid off the car.

The steamer trunk and trunk lid sail over the car and skid down the hill.

The steering wheel's bent over. Del's hands are gripping it. Neal's hands are embedded in the padded dash.

Neal looks at him.

Neal looks at his watch.

The Lincoln pulls slowly around to the side of the road and comes to a stop pointing in the correct direction. The doors open and Neal and Del get out. They walk around to the back and look at the gaping hole in the back of the Lincoln.

Neal looks at him. He isn't interested in jokes.

He heads down the road. He grabs his back, groans.

He rubs the small of his back and continues.

C.U. NEAL

He sighs. He can't let Del drag the trunk back by himself.

Neal follows after Del. As he heads down the highway. we see flames erupt in the backseat of the Lincoln.

Del hobbles toward the trunk. Neal's behind him. In the background we see the interior of the car engulfed in flame. Del stops at the trunk. He grabs one end and drags it to the shoulder. Neal picks up the trunk lid. He carries it to the shoulder and drops it on top of the trunk. He grabs an end. Del grabs the other. They lift and turn to face the Lincoln.

They stop, drop the trunk.

THEIR POV

The ragtop of the Lincoln is on fire.

C.U. DEL

He can't figure why the car's burning.

C.U. NEAL

Complete mystification.

NEAL AND DEL

They watch the car turn.

Del shakes his head.

Del looks at Neal.

Del doesn't say anything. He looks at Neal out the corner of his eye. Something occurs to Neal. He looks at Del.

DEL

Del doesn't know what to say.

Del knows he's caught.

The interior and the roof of the car is burning bright.

A chain motel. Big, bright sign. The charred Lincoln pulls up in front. All that remains of the roof is a twisted

black frame. Neal's driving. He's wearing a big, ugly wool overcoat and stocking cap. Del's wearing his overcoat and a couple sweaters and a baseball cap.

The interior is completely charred. They're sitting on bare, burned springs.

Neal doesn't say a word.

Neal opens the door and gets out.

Neal walks into the motel. He looks like a patron of an Anchorage resale shop. Del follows him in. Neal marches up to the counter.

The DESK CLERK slides a registration form across the counter. Neal takes the pen and begins filling it in.

Neal reaches into his pocket and hands the clerk a charred, melted hunk of plastic.

He reaches into his other pocket and comes up with another melted wad.

The clerk stares at the plastic. Neal finishes the form.

The Clerk considers the request.

Neal reaches into his pocket. Counts out his money.

He takes his watch off. The Clerk looks at it.

The Clerk turns from the desk and selects a room key. He gives it to Neal.

He exits the lobby. Del watches him go. The Clerk turns to Del.

He turns from the counter. He puts Neal's watch to his ear and sits down. Del looks out the door.

Neal's in bed. He exhales loudly. Fluffs his pillow. Sighs. Shifts positions. Fluffs his pillow again. Exhales again. Lays still for a moment. Then he sits up. Another sigh. He gets out of bed and walks to the window. He pulls the curtain aside and looks out.

HIS POV

Del's sitting in the burned out Lincoln. snowflakes drift down across the parking lot.

C.U. NEAL

A moment of compassion. Then a moment of reason.

HIS POV

Del hunkers down in the seat and tries to get comfortable.

Neal lets the curtain close. He walks back to the bed and get sin.

He's sitting in the car looking at the motel room. His eyes shift up to the heavy skies.

He breathes a deep, soulful sigh. The motel door opens. Del shifts his look to the motel. Neal•s in the doorway.

Del and Neal are in the bed.

Del doesn't reply.

Del's silent again.

Neal rolls over.

A long pause.

The snow storm's blown in and left it's white wrath. The Lincoln's filled to the brim with fresh snow.

Neal's laying on the bed in his underwear, curled into a ball, without a pillow or a stitch of covering. Del has both · pillows and all the blankets and sheets. Neal wakes with a shiver. He sits up and looks at Del.

Neal shivers across to the bathroom and goes inside. Del stirs and emerges from the sound of blankets. He's wearing his coat, hat and gloves.

Neal and Del are in the car. They've scooped the snow out of the front seat. The back's still piled high. Neal has the car in reverseand is gunning the engine. The car's stuck. Wheels spinning. Nothing happening. Neal lets off the gas.

Neal puts the car in park.

He gets out of the car.

Del slides over the springs to the driver's side. Neal goes around to the front. Del puts the Lincoln in reverse and hits the gas. Neal pushes with all his soul. Nothing. Del lets off the gas.

Neal repositions himself on the passenger side. He grips the door handle and ~he outside mirror. Del drops the car in forward and guns it. Neal pulls on the car. Del shifts quickly to reverse and guns it, Neal pushes. They continue rocking the car back and forth.

Del throws the car in reverse, it rocks high up on the ice groove.

He throws the car in forward and guns it. Rocks a little more, catches, leaps forward and plows into the motel.

Neal jumps in the car, Del throws it in reverse and plows backwards, up and over the snowbank and into the lot. He dumps it in forward and they're off, leaving a hole in the motel. But no room service charges. Or phone calls.

The charred hulk roars down the highway.

Del's driving. Neal's shotgun. They're freezing their asses off. The heater's pumping full blast. They're shouting to each other over the roar of the wind.

Del lifts his knees again to steer as he takes his hands off the wheel to undo his watch.

He's having trouble getting it off. He glances down. Then at the road.

He holds out his wrist. Neal takes off a glove and starts to work on the watch.

He takes his other hand off the wheel and points to the clasp.

A state police car is parked alongside the road with his radar gun, clocking motorists. The Lincoln hurtles past.

C.U. COP

He stares at the semi-destroyed vehicle with the top down, doing ninety two two guys hunched over in the seats. He bits his siren.

Neal drops Del's wrist and turns around.

Del looks at the speedometer.

HIS POV

The entire dash is melted.

Del's hunched-over looking at the speedometer.

The Lincoln rolls to a stop. The cop car pulls up behind it. The cop gets out and saunters up to the Lincoln. He looks it over carefully.

The cop looks in the charred backseat.

The cop nods.

The cop reaches into his back pocket pulls out his ticket book.

Del reaches inside his coat for his wallet.

Del hands over his license.

Neal's thinking.

Neal looks at Del. He's puzzled.

Del and Neal come out the front doors. Neal's limping a little.

They reach the curb where Del's trunk and suitcases are piled.

Del's holding an ice cube wrapped in a napkin to his eye. Neal shuffles over to the booth and sits down.

Del lowers the ice cube to reveal a little shiner.

He looks at a wall clock.

He gets up from the booth.

He hurries out of the coffee shop. The handful of patrons in the coffee shop turn and look at Neal. They've all overheard Del's remark. Neal smiles meekly.

The patrons burst into laughter. Neal shrinks in his seat.

The cafe is rocking with howls of laughter.

Neal's standing on the corner, leaning against a mailbox, enjoying his misery. He hears the GASP OF AIR BRAKES. He looks down the street.

HIS POV

A semi rolls to a stop and Del climbs down from the passenger side.

C.U. NEAL

A wary look.

C.U. DEL

He waves Neal on.

The semi rolls across the Wisconsin ~ountryside.

Del and Neal are in the trailer surrounded by wooden crates.

Neal nods.

Neal shakes his head, no.

A long pause. Neal's not in the mood for a conversation.

Neal stares at Del. He smiles.

The truck barrels down the expressway, heading into the city.

The semi backs into a loading dock.

A hand hits the lock and swings the doors open. Del and Neal are sitting on Del's trunk.

He heads down the dock.

Neal looks around slowly at Del. Del smiles.

C.U. TV SCREEN

A black and white picture of a football game. Third quarter stats.

The driver and the dock worker are in the office watching the game. Del and Neal appear in the doorway.

Del looks at Neal with a smile.

Neal actually smiles.

Del and Neal lug the steamer trunk up the stairs. They set it down. Del reaches into his pocket and removes the last of the money.

Del shuffles over to the ticket window. Neal tries to straighten himself up. He brushes off his coat and pats his hair down.

-

Del and Neal are on the platform waiting for the trains.

A train pulls into the station.

Neal offers his hand to Del. Del clasps it with both hands.

The train pulls to a stop. The doors open.

Neal gives Del a bear hug and runs down the cars to an open door and disappears inside. Del waves to him.

Neal slides into a seat. He breathes a huge sigh of relief.

He reaches cross the aisle and snares a discarded newspaper off the seat. He opens it. The train jolts ahead.

A neat little brick building in the sedate suburb. A taxi pulls away from the front.

The train pulls in. The doors open. Neal steps off the train and heads into the station. He's buried in his newspaper, reading as he walks.

Neal pushes open the door and walks into the station. He's stiff reading the paper. He passes the benches and Del Griffith. Del's sitting on the bench. Neal takes a few steps and stops. He lowers the paper, thinks and turns.

C.U. DEL

He smiles sheepishly.

C.U. NEAL

He's dumbfounded.

C.U. DEL

Clears his throat.

C.U. NEAL

He's beyond words.

Del looks away. Neal walks over to him.

Del looks up at him. He doesn't say anything.

Del·nods. He's serious·and somber. The old enthusiasm and bullshit has evaporated. Neal heads to the doors. He starts to exit. Stops. A long beat and he kicks the door.

Del jumps from the sudden noise. Neal turns to him.

Del looks at the floor.

Del doesn't answer.

Del looks up at him.

There's a long pause.

C.U. DEL

Serious, dying inside.

C.U. NEAL

Waits for a response. Holds his anger at bay.

C.U. DEL

Looks away, looks back.

C.U. NEAL

The anger fades. To be replaced by confusion.

C. U.DEL

Looks at Neal. Sorry he's burdened him, sorry for everything he's done. But lost and down and completely out of emotional options.

C.U. NEAL

Like a knife through his heart.

Del and Neal are sitting on facing benched. Del's smoking.

Del reaches in his pocket and comes up with a key. He unlocks the trunk and opens it.

C.U. TRUNK

The remnants of Del's domestic life. A lamp, some sheets, towels, pictures, a couple pans, fragile things wrapped in newspaper.

Neal leans back from the trunk. He closes the lid.

He smiles sadly.

Neal shakes his head. He's about to cry.

He looks at his watch.

Neal stares at the floor, devastated by Del's story.

He bends over and slaps the lock on the trunk.

He lifts one end of the trunk and picks up his suitcase and sample case.

He starts to drag the trunk back to the platform. Neal looks up. Looks at Del.

Del stops. He looks back at Neal. Gives him a wink and continues across the station.

It's dark, cars are parked up and down both sides of the street. Lights are burning in a big, old two-story colonial.

The football game's just ended. Neal's father-in-law, MARTIN, and his father, HAROLD, are in the family room watching the TV. A two-year-old girl, MARTI, is on, thefloor combing her My Little Pony's hair. A five-year-old boy, LITTLE NEAL, is sharing a chair with Martin.

Neal's wife, SUE, is finishing a relish tray. Her mother, JOY, is stirring gravy. And her mother-in-law, PEG, is whipping mashed potatoes with an egg-beater.

Peg shuts off the beater. It'sher son.

Sue stops her work.

She undoes her apron and throws it down on the table. She storms out of the room.

Little Neal's crossing the foyer heading for the dining room. Sue stomps in from the living room and heads up the stairs.

The grandfathers come into the foyer from the living room. Joy and Peg come in from the dining room. SETH stumbles up to Harold and grabs his pant leg. Marti peeks through the grandpas.

Joy starts for the stairs. The doorbell rings.

Marti bursts through the grandpas and charges to the door. She grabs the knob with both hands and pulls it open.

HER POV

Neal and Del Griffith are standing at the door holding the trunk.

Peg leans up the stairs ·andcalls to Sue.

Neal and Del lug the trunk into the house and set it down. Neal closes the door.

Del shakes Martin's hand. Neal introduces everybody to Del. Del shakes hands all around.

He picks up Seth.

He kisses Seth.

Susan's at the top of the stairs, looking down. Her eyes are darkened with mascara moistened by her tears. She sniffles and composes herself.

He looks past Seth to the stairs and sees Susan. He smiles from rim to rim.

Del looks up the stairs. He pushes his·mussed hair back and smiles humbly.

C.U. SUSAN

She smiles.

Neal gives Seth toDel and charges up the stairs. Susan tuns down and they embrace mid-way. Neal kisses her like never before.

The family is seated at the table. Del's at the head of the table, a huge tom turkey before him. Neal's at the other end of the table. Kids and grandparents on either side. Susan to Neal's right. Del and Neal have showered, shaved and changed.

Marti looks at her for a moment. Susan nods to her, to help her remember what she has to say.

She thinks as hard as she can.

Everybody joins in.

We hold on the trunk sitting in the middle of the room as the voices spill out from the dining room.

FADE DOWN. END TITLE.