· · ·

45EXT. PIER 32. DAY.

The entrance to the passenger terminal for the Cote d’Ivoire. A sign across the glass says “Royal Arctic Line.” Richie stands on the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets as bundled-up, white-haired passengers and baggage handlers run by around him. He has two small suitcases and a vinyl bag with a pouch on he side for a tennis racket. There is no racket in it. Two elderly men with white hair come over to him.

ELDERLY MAN 1

Can we get a picture with you, Baumer?

Richie nods. One of the elderly men gives his camera to a baggage handler, and they stand next to Richie.

ELDERLY MAN 2

I saw you whip Vishniac in the finals at

Glenchester. You were beautiful back

then.

Richie smiles briefly. The baggage handler takes the picture.

ELDERLY MAN 1

Thanks, Champ.

The two elderly men walk away. A city bus stops at the corner. The door opens and Margot gets out. She smiles at Richie and waves. She wears a mink coat with a belt around it. She has on pink gloves. She walks across the sidewalk and stops ten feet in front of Richie as the bus drives away. They stand there smiling at each other.

MARGOT

Stand up straight and let me get a look

at you.

Richie stands up a little straighter and continues to look at Margot with the same smile.

MARGOT (CONT’D)

What’s so funny?

Richie shrugs.

MARGOT (CONT’D)

Well, it’s nice to see you, too.

Their smiles fade, and they both look cold and sad. Richie reaches out his hand. Margot goes over to him and puts her arms around him.