Making history

'Thanks. You know,' I said, 'where I come from there's this thing called political correctness.'

'We got that here too.'

'No, but it means you get into trouble if you don't give equal rights to women, disabled people, people from all ethnic backgrounds, black, Asian, Hispanic, American Indian, whatever, and of course gays. That is, lesbians and ... you know, fruits, or whatever you call them here. If they so much as suspect you of being offensive, or bigoted or even faintly patronising to any of those groups you can get fired from your job, sued in court ... you're an outcast.'

'You're putting me on, right?'

'No, no. Really. Homosexuals are called gays and they have parades and Gay Pride marches and Mardi Gras festivals and whole streets and quarters in the cities are given over to gay shops and gay bars and gay restaurants and gay banks and gay insurance brokers, gay everything. Only it's a bit more complicated because they've started to use the word "queer" again, just as

blacks call themselves "niggers" ... it's called "reclaiming", something like that. In Hawaii gay people can even get married. There's a right-wing backlash of course. The liberals think there's still a lot of discrimination, the biblethumpers think it's all gone too far and that political correctness is an un-American contamination.'

'You're an angel come down from heaven, right? You're talking about paradise here.'

'Paradise, no.' I considered crime and AIDS and race hatted and terrorism and road-rage and drive-by shootings and militias and fundamentalists and oil-spills and infant crack-addicts and the whole package. 'I'm just talking about the world I know. It's not paradise, believe me.'

'Look, Mikey, I'll make you a coffee and then you'd better drink it and go. I got work to do. My life is here in this real America. The one that exists. I finish school, I find myself

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a wife and a job and I live my life, okay? That's how it works.'

'That's what you want?'

'It's not a question of what I want, Mike, that's the way it is.'

'Are you saying everyone lives like that? Standard nuclear families?'

'Oh sure, there's freaks and weirdos and liberals and communists and perverts in the ghettos living like pigs. You think I want that for myself?'

'Steve. Do you think you can trust me?'

He looked at me through eyes that were fighting back tears. 'Trust you? Hell, I don't even know you.'

'No, but you knew me before. When I was American and we were friends, I'm still the same person you knew then.'

'But I didn't know you then, Mikey. I barely knew you at all. That is, you barely knew me at all.'

'What are you talking about? We were friends.'

Steve shook his head. 'I lied about that. We were never friends. That night in the A & B, that was the first night I'd ever spent any time with you. I'd seen you around. I used to follow you all over campus without you ever knowing. I hate baseball, but every time you pitched, I was there, watching. That night, I had overheard you tell someone that you were going to the Clio to watch the debate, so I went along too. Sat behind you. And then you and Todd and Scott and your jock buddies got bored and headed for the A & B, so I followed. I sat close while you all got drunk and I found myself part of the group.'

The coffee-maker was hissing and spluttering so I went over and poured out two cups. The machine was a Krups, I noticed. Some things never changed.

'Then you went weird,' said Steve. 'Your friends got all freaked out and I was left to see you to your room and check you were okay. When I came round next morning I think I knew something had happened to you. Because of

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your eyes. There was something in your eyes that was different.'

He went over to a desk, pulled open a drawer and came out with a folder. He handed it over to me and sat down in an armchair with his coffee.

'See, I know your face pretty well,' he said as I looked through the photographs. 'If anybody could see a difference in you, it would be me.'

There were hundreds of them. Me walking across campus on my own. Me laughing in the company of Todd, Scott and Ronnie. Me in baseball uniform, pitching, batting, punching the air, leaning forward hands on hips, glaring at the batter. Me in a winter coat, shoulders hunched against the snow. Me rowing on a lake. Me sunbathing. Me reading on the lawn. Me with my arm round a girl. Me kissing a girl. Me in extreme close up, looking straight ahead, just off camera, as if knowing that I was being watched. I closed the folder.

'Wow,' I said.

'So, now you see.' 'Steve, I'm so sorry.'

'Sorry? What's to be sorry?'

'You must have been so unhappy. So lonely.'

He looked down into his coffee. 'Well, I'm going to have to get used to my own company, aren't I? For the rest of my life. So what's new?'

'If it's any compensation,' I said. 'I think, from the little I've seen of them, that Scott and Todd and Ronnie are complete cunts.'

Steve smiled. 'Ain't that the truth?'

'And I cannot believe, I cannot believe from what I know of myself, that I can have been very happy here.'

'No? I used to think that about you. I used to think you were missing something. Of course I hoped that he trailed off.

I sipped my coffee, my brain a mixture of sympathy, vanity and some serious planning.

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'What about England?' Steve asked. 'Were you happy there, in this other world of yours?'

'I don't know. I think so. I suppose ... I suppose like

you, I was getting a bit pissed off at the prospect of getting a job, marrying, settling down, buying a house, all that. I had lost sight of the point.'

'And you see the point now?'

'The point is there is no point. That's the point.' 'Great. The philosophy major speaks.'

I sat myself down on the desk. 'What did you expect? I'm the guy that got you into this mess, you expect me to have answers?'

'So life just carries on, does it? What about your world of Mardi Gras festivals and equal rights and Hawaiian marriages? I knock the heels of my ruby slippers together twice, wish hard and find myself there, do I? Or maybe I find a mystical spot where I can stick my hand through a wall and just step into this parallel universe of yours? Or maybe you tell me that it is my destiny to fight for a brave new world of brotherly love and that I am to become a rebel leader, the founder of a new America who will lead his children to the promised land. And then you disappear in a puff of smoke. Is that the deal?'

'No, Steve,' I said, 'that's not the deal. If you listen to me I'll tell you what the deal is.'

I talked. He listened. The deal was struck. Movie History

The Sting

EXT. DICKINSON HALL, PRINCETON FADE IN: CAMPUS -

AFTERNOON

We TILT up from ground level and take in the exterior of Dickinson Hall, moving in to a window on the first floor. . CUT TO:

INT. STEVE'S ROOM, DICKINSON HALL - AFTERNOON STEVE is holding a small laminated card and gives careful instructions to MICHAEL, who is listening attentively.

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STEVE

So that's the library card. You remember how we took out books last time? It's the same deal. This here's your student number. Memorise it, okay? Every student knows their number, might look kinda suspicious if you had to keep

referring to the card.

MICHAEL nods . STEVE hands him a shopping bag. STEVE (CONT'D)

And you' re sure about how the carts work? Just like I showed you. It's real simple.

MICHAEL Just like you showed me. STEVE

And here' s the campus map. You know most of the landmarks now. This room. Your room in Henry. Okay . . .

(getting serious) I know this might sound crazy, but from now on whenever we meet, we don't talk about this, except in PJ's or the A & B. Those guys we met last night MICHAEL (shocked)

You think they might put bugs in our rooms? STEVE

(even more shocked) Hey, this may not be like the ideal nation state but we're

not Nazi Europe. We don't do chemical warfare here. MICHAEL

No, not those kind of bugs! Listening bugs! You know, wire taps.

STEVE

Oh, right. Yeah. I'm saying it's a possibility, that's all. MICHAEL Big Brother is alive and well.

STEVE Say what? MICHAEL

Big Brother. As in 'Big Brother is watching you' . It's from a novel by George Orwell that's never been written. STEVE The George Orwell?

STEVE has gone to his desk and started to gather up papers and a camera.

MICHAEL You heard of him?

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STEVE

You kidding? Every kid in America has to plow through Darkness Falls.

MICHAEL

Darkness Falls? When did he write that? STEVE

(packing the camera into a blue nylon bag) Oh, late thirties, I guess. It's like the masterpiece of the free world. Orwell was shot in the '39 British Rebellion. I got a copy somewhere, you can borrow it.

MICHAEL

Thanks. And I can tell you about 1984 and Animal Farm. They'll blow your mind.

STEVE

(pleased with the phrase) Blow my mind? That' s a helluvan expression.

STEVE feeds a length of cable up from the nylon bag, through his shirt and down his sleeve. It ends in a small device which nestles in his left hand. We see on this device tiny control switches and a row of little red lights.

MICHAEL watches this procedure in surprise, completely unable to understand it. STEVE nods towards the bag. STEVE Take a look at that bag.

MICHAEL stoops down.

ANOTHER ANGLE: From the POV of the camera inside the bag we see MICHAEL'S face loom towards us in CLOSE-UP, peering curiously.

BACK onto STEVE'S hand, deftly manipulating the control device: the red light glows.

BACK onto the CLOSE-UP of MICHAEL'S enquiring face, which now ZOOMS WIDER into a MID-SHOT. The contrast alters and then

Suddenly, it FREEZES.

BACK onto STEVE who grins in triumph. STEVE

There's another one for my Michael Young collection. MICHAEL is impressed with the set-up.

MICHAEL You sneaky bastard . . .

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STEVE

Yeah, well that's one of the advantages of being a sad, lonely fairy, I guess. You get to learn how to be a spy.

He winks cheerfully as he picks up the bag

and holds open the door for MICHAEL to leave first.

We hold on STEVE'S still smiling face as MICHAEL passes by. STEVE's eyes follow MICHAEL out of the room and then the smile disappears.

It is replaced by a look of hunger and desolation. FADE TO:

EXT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, PRINCETON -AFTERNOON MUSIC

An establishing shot of the Firestone Library, craning down from the huge tower.

CUT TO:

INT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, PRINCETON -AFTERNOON Inside the library, MICHAEL is hauling a pile of books along a corridor. He comes to a door which says: - FLASHING ROOM

MICHAEL enters. One other person is there, an ELDERLY ACADEMIC, hunched over a machine, one of a dozen such devices in the room.

MICHAEL (winningly) Hi!

The ACADEMIC scowls over his shoulder and then turns back to his work.

MICHAEL shrugs and goes over to the machine furthest from the grouchy ACADEMIC.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING, PRINCETON - SAME TIME

MUSIC continues.

STEVE is sitting, leaning against a great chestnut tree, blue nylon bag on the ground beside him.

On STEVE'S lap is a sketch pad onto which we MOVE.

A fairly decent drawing of the bronze statue of 'Science Triumphant' which

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stands in front of the Quantum Mechanics building.

STEVE gives the impression of drawing: looking up and down between the statue and the pad on his lap .

Series of SHOTS of: -

STEVE'S FACE, as he apparently looks in the direction of the statue . . .

STEVE'S POV: ACADEMICS and STUDENTS entering and leaving the building . . .

STEVE'S LEFT THUMB: manipulating the little control device . . .

THE BLUE NYLON BAG, and the small hole in its side, through which we can just make out the reflective surface of a lens.

CUT TO:

INT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, FLASHING ROOM -SAME TIME

MUSIC continues: MICHAEL stands in front of the flashing machine and looks at it, finding it slightly forbidding. It is like a scanner, but the styling and design of the switching gear are very alien to him.

He opens the first book of his pile. We see its title. Gloder: The Early Days by Charles B Flood. A bright orange sticker on the top right of the jacket reads, 'FLASHABLE TEXT'.

MICHAEL opens the book and flips through it to about the middle of the book, speed-reading blocks of text. He turns the book over and examines the spine, he looks down it from the top and feels with his thumb. He is puzzled that he can't feel anything.

Next, he places the book, SPINE DOWNWARDS, into a little channel on the machine, where it is firmly gripped. There is a gentle beep from the machine as the book fits into its slot.

A display on the front panel asks him to 'Enter Student Number'. MICHAEL does so.

The display requests: 'Welcome, Michael D Young'. MICHAEL smiles.

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The display changes to: '# of pages? 1=ALL 2=RANGE'. MICHAEL taps in ' 2 ' .

The display reads 'Range?' MICHAEL taps in '1-140' . The display reads 'Insert Cart'.

MICHAEL takes a small black cart from his bag and slips it into a port below the main display panel.

There is a small hum from the machine and the display says 'Flashing, please wait' .

MICHAEL looks at the next books in his pile: amongst them we see Gloder: the Nobleman by A L Parlange, Prince Rudolf? by Mouton and Grover and Gloder's Kampfparolen: A New Translation with Notes, by A C Spearman. They all have the same bright orange sticker on them saying 'FLASHABLE TEXT'.

A beep comes from the machine, the cart is ejected. MICHAEL looks at the display which reads: 'Flashing complete: remove cart'. MICHAEL does so.

The display reads: 'Flashdata will delete 06/29/96'. MICHAEL scribbles Gloder: The Early Days on the cart's label and readies the next book for flashing.

CUT TO: EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING - SAME TIME

MUSIC continues: STEVE is still sitting serenely under the chestnut tree, apparently drawing.

We see the nylon bag. We see STEVE'S left hand.

Close on the lens in the bag. The MUSIC builds to a climax.

Now, a montage of SHOTS that go from movement to STILLS of people entering and leaving the building: -

A PAIR OF LAUGHING WOMEN, ARMS AROUND EACH OTHER'S SHOULDERS.

A NERDY-LOOKING STUDENT, STRAIGHTENING HIS SPECTACLES.

A COOL OLDER MAN IN SUNGLASSES . AN ECCENTRICALLY SHOCK-HAIRED OLD

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PROFESSOR.

FOUR YOUNG STUDENTS, EATING ICE-CREAMS. AN OLDER MAN, IN PROFILE, TALKING TO A WOMAN.

ANOTHER NERDY STUDENT, LOOKING LIKE A TIMID RABBIT

SUDDENLY -

A huge human THUMB comes into shot and pulls the last PHOTO away to reveal behind it the one before: the OLDER MAN, IN PROFILE, TALKING TO A WOMAN.

MICHAEL (OOV) (whispering excitedly) That's him!

CUT TO: INT. PJ'S PANCAKES, NASSAU STREET - EVENING

MICHAEL and STEVE are sitting at their table by the window in PJ's. MICHAEL has the pile of photographs in front of him. He pulls one free.

MICHAEL (CONT'D) The beard's gone, thank God -but it's him all right.

STEVE takes the photos and replaces them in a folder. He looks around.

The place is not very full. The nearest table to them contains a couple of students, male and female, holding hands and obviously paying no attention. It seems safe enough.

STEVE

Good. Tomorrow I'll find out where he lives . And how are you getting on in the library?

MICHAEL All done. It's a piece of piss. STEVE

Excuse me?

MICHAEL Easy. It's ridiculously easy. STEVE

Sure. But the next problem is, I've gotta show you how to use the Pads . So. we' 11 go to your room and I'll take you through it. But remember . . . we don't say anything about all this.

JO-BETH the waitress comes forward. STEVE Hiya, Jo-Beth.

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