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turning to page one
turning to page one
Orlean exits the courthouse and watches Laroche in a huddle with Lerner, Vinson, and Buster Baxley, vice-president of the tribe's business operations. They're all smoking intently.
LAROCHE
They're gonna fucking crucify me.
BAXLEY
I'll go into the Fakahatchee with a
chainsaw. I swear to God.
LERNER
Buster, for crying out loud, I reminded
her the Indians used to own Fakahatchee.
Look, we'll deal with all this at trial.
Buster waves a dismissive hand at Lerner, walks away. Vinson shrugs, stubs his cigarette, follows Buster. Lerner and Laroche stand there a moment. Lerner walks off. Laroche cracks his neck. A charmingly shy Orlean approaches.
ORLEAN
Mr. Laroche?
Orlean smiles, apologetic for the intrusion.
ORLEAN (CONT'D)
My name's Susan Orlean, I'm a writer for
the New Yorker. It's a maga --
LAROCHE
I'm familiar with the New Yorker. The
New Yorker, yes, the New Yorker. Right?
ORLEAN
Right. So I was interested in doing a
piece about your situation down here.
Laroche scowls, smokes furiously, then, a test:
LAROCHE
Yeah? Put this in: I don't care what
goes on here. I'm right, and I'll take
this all the way to the Supreme Court.
That judge can screw herself.
Orlean scribbles on her pad. Laroche twists his head to see that she's writing "Judge can screw herself."
LAROCHE (cont'd)
That for real would go in?
Orlean nods. Laroche smiles his toothless smile at Orlean.