PEACE, LOVE AND BOMBS 11


EXT. TWO STORY BRICK BUILDING ON SUBURBAN STREET CORNER
THAT HOUSES SECOND FLOOR BILLIARD PARLOR – DAY

Franco’s Mustang pulls along the curb and parks. He
gets out and locks the door. His beat up work clothes
covered with dried mud and cement dust, he makes for
the poolhall entrance, but stops when he hears the
distinctive beep of a compact car’s horn. He turns and
sees the silver MGC. The young woman from the record
store pops her head out of the driver’s side window.

BIANCA
Did you fall in a ditch?

Franco stares down at himself and laughs.

FRANCO
I didn’t exactly fall in. I was in
one. I guess by choice.

BIANCA
Is that a guy thing?

FRANCO
Doesn’t have to be. You should try
it.

BIANCA
Maybe I will. You busy?

FRANCO
That depends.

BIANCA
Take a ride.

FRANCO
Where?

BIANCA
Purchase.

FRANCO
What’s in Purchase?

BIANCA
I want to show you something.

FRANCO
Can’t you show me right here?

BIANCA
I could, but cars might crash.

FRANCO
Then by all means…

BIANCA
You wish.

FRANCO
What time you coming back?

BIANCA
Why? You have plans?

FRANCO
Not really. I’m taking the
afternoon off.

BIANCA
Well come on then.

FRANCO
I might get your car dirty.

BIANCA
So what. Come on.

FRANCO
I might get you dirty.

BIANCA
You’re optimistic.

FRANCO
I’m not. Just dirty.

BIANCA
Get in.

He comes around and climbs in.

INT. MGC – DAY

FRANCO
Wow. This thing is low.

BIANCA
Bet your ass. Buckle your seat
belt.

She pulls from behind his Mustang into approaching
traffic, quickly putting distance between her car and
those in back, cuts sharply onto Main, shifting with
precise and steady thrusts, winds out third and bangs
it into fourth. Watching her shift, Franco shakes his
head and smiles.

BIANCA
What’s so funny?

FRANCO
Nothing.

She zips through traffic, passing car after car until
reaching the bend for I-95 north. She accelerates up
the ramp, merges into the right lane, then the center,
checks her side mirror and opens it up, cutting over
one more to the left. Once at cruising speed:

BIANCA
I love driving in the Fall.

FRANCO
I like being driven. You can sit
back and take it all in. By any
chance, you have a name?

BIANCA
I do.

FRANCO
Well?

BIANCA
It’s Bianca.

FRANCO
It’s beautiful. Is that Italian?

BIANCA
It could be. But in my case, no.

FRANCO
How do you spell it?

BIANCA
Before it was Americanized, with a
k a.

FRANCO
But now with a c a.

BIANCA
Yes, exactly.

FRANCO
You Catholic?

BIANCA
No.

FRANCO
Protestant?

BIANCA
My mother is.

FRANCO
But not your father.

BIANCA
He’s not Christian.

FRANCO
Where’s he from?

BIANCA
Budapest.

FRANCO
That’s different.

BIANCA
Why? What’s different about it?

FRANCO
Everybody I know is either Irish or
Italian.

BIANCA
Well, my mother’s Irish.

FRANCO
But not Catholic.

BIANCA
Is that a problem?

FRANCO
Not for me.

BIANCA
Maybe with your IRA friends.

FRANCO
What are you talking about?

BIANCA
I feel like I’m being interrogated.

FRANCO
You’re right. I’m sorry.

BIANCA
What about you? Your family?

FRANCO
Nothing but Italians on my family
tree.

BIANCA
Your parents born here?

FRANCO
Yeah. My mother and my father. In
fact, both grandmothers were born
here. Both grandfathers, on the
other side.

BIANCA
So your family goes way back.

FRANCO
Late eighteen hundreds. Now that
that’s cleared up, you never asked
my name.

BIANCA
What makes you think I don’t know
it?

FRANCO
What’d you say?

BIANCA
I’m getting on the Cross
Westchester. Hold on. It’s a wicked
ramp.

She slows a bit, takes the ramp and downshifts into
third. The tach jumps, the engine revs, slowing the
two-seater just enough to drop another gear. She
navigates the sharp bend, Franco clinging to the door,
hits the straightaway and upshifts smoothly twice.

EXT. CROSS WESTCHESTER EXPRESSWAY – DAY

The MGC makes its way onto the Hutch, then exits at a
sign for Anderson Hill Road, S.U.N.Y. Purchase. She
drives to the main entrance and through, entering the
college campus. A long road leads to the parking area
near the east lawn. Throngs of students gather and
hoist banners, pump their fists and chant anti-war
slogans, as they begin a march across school grounds.

INT. MGC – DAY

She swings into a parking space and shuts the car off.

BIANCA
Come on.

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About ldlagarino

I'm a somewhat retired tractor-trailer driver who loves the movies and always loved to write. I have time now. No excuses. I suppose it's only natural for me to lean toward screenwriting.
This entry was posted in 1970-1971, Love, New York, Peace, The Mob and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to PEACE, LOVE AND BOMBS 11

  1. JoAnn Santoro says:

    Very good! Can’t wait to hear what happens next!

    Like

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